My Talisman
by Kz4
Summary: AU. Partly inspired by the song Havana by Camila Cabello. Raymond Steele hires bounty hunter Christian Grey to rescue his long- lost eighteen year old daughter from a life of misery and bring her home. Soon, however, they find themselves locked into a marriage of convenience, slow burn ***NOW COMPLETE WITH EPILOGUE***
1. Chapter 1

Prologue: The views and political opinions presented here are not mine, they belong to the characters. The setting is important in this story and while I try to make it realistic, it is all for entertainment purposes only.

This story takes place in Cuba, an island located 90 miles from the coast of Florida. Cuba has been under communist rule since 1959 and Spanish is the official language. I will be writing this in English, or course, but it is understood that in many cases the characters will be speaking Spanish unless otherwise noted. I will use isolated Spanish words here and there but not complete sentences.

Story description:

 _Raymond Steele hires bounty hunter Christian Grey to rescue his long- lost eighteen year old daughter from a life of misery. His mission is to do whatever it takes to bring Anastasia home where she belongs. No cheating, no BDMS, will probably change the rating to Mature later on. Ana is 18 & Christian 25._

* * *

Chapter One

 _"Location matters in destiny as much as it does in real estate."_

-Every Note Played by Lisa Genova-

Havana, Cuba, June 2018

"How about you tell us the truth once and for all? Your little friend Marisol already started singing like a canary. Give us names."

The questions kept coming repeated over and over, sometimes paraphrased, always relentless.

"I...I don't know anything."

"Defector!" _Comandante_ Sanchez mumbled under his breath. "Traitor!"

Ana felt sick; she'd been deprived of food and water for too long. Bowing her head, she shivered, despite the room's hot temperature. Bile rose in her throat, but she swallowed it along with her fear. The last 48 hours had been hell on earth. The minutes had ticked by while she tried to occupy her mind with counting backward from one thousand or meditating, anything to avoid thinking about what was happening to her at the moment.

"The carnival is over, _muchacha_. There's no mercy for defectors. What do they do for Cuba? All they do is criticize the REAL patriots. Damn defectors! Is that what you want, _muchacha_? You want your name on that fucking list?" The Commander bent over Ana, getting close to her face in an attempt to intimidate her. He had an eye patch over an eye and an ugly scar running down the side of the other.

Ana licked her dry lips and retreated to a happier place in her mind. She remembered a moment from her childhood, the one transfixing moment from her past. Riding in an antique car, dressed in a white dress seated beside her mother who was not yet dead. She felt safe, securely nestled between her mother and a man, a military man she knew was not her father. In the back seat of the car, straight as pins, sat three young men, cadets, dressed in tight wool uniforms. She had no idea who the men were. She had no memory of where they were going or how they came to be going together or what happened to them once they got there. It was something ceremonial; it may have been a memorial with rising flags and trumpets and slow beating drums. Until the sky lit up with a magnificent display of fireworks and the crowd around them went mad and started shouting: " _Arriba la revolucion_ ," and showered them with confetti as their vehicle slowly moved through the streets of Havana.

It was the sharpest memory she had of her lovely mother who had died during childbirth when Ana was seven. Her mother's golden brown hair fell down in cascades of light to just below her shoulders, and she was wearing the most dazzling of smiles. Her mind, however, came coming back to the men. She remembered the way they smelled, the way their arms filled the sleeves of the jackets and the stiff white collars scraping against the razored necks, the rasp of masculinity, and that had been the beginning, the beginning of life as she knew it. From that beginning, she had gone on and on until her legs were tired, her mother was dead, and her heart was broken.

Ana continued to bite down on her dry, cracked lips. All of a sudden, she had an itch on her nose, and she could hardly scratch it with her hands cuffed behind her. She tried rubbing her face against her shoulder to stop the itch.

Suddenly, Commander Sanchez grabbed a fistful of hair and yanked it up, scowling contemptuously, pulling her frightfully close. She tried pulling away, but the man slapped her hard across the face. Wincing, but too afraid to move her face, she sank low onto the hardwood chair.

"We have been very, extremely patient with you...but if you don't give us names- He trailed off. After what seemed like an eternity, he released the fistful of hair disgustedly and took two steps back. He eyed her body up and down, leering "Skinny wench...we will TAKE what we can, do you understand?"

The implication was clear. Ana's back instantly stiffened. She turned her head away, removing herself from the Commander's creepy glance. She had always thought of herself as a gawky teenager and that people were staring at her for the wrong reasons. Her friends begged to differ; they said she was close to breathtaking, stunning in her strength. Today, however, she felt anything but breathtaking. She must look a fright with her cracked lips, face streaked with sweat, and with her hair looking like one huge matted, rat's nest.

Ana bit her lip to stifle a cry of pain as Sanchez grabbed her by the hair once again. This time, he pulled harder and didn't stop until she shrieked. "Talk" He spat, little bits of spit flying out of his mouth, exposing his tobacco stained teeth.

Ana looked away, trying her best to hide her disgust. "I ...I already told you, I don't know anything." She cried, her voice pathetic even to herself. "Marisol is the one who planned everything. She wasn't even a good friend, just an acquaintance of mine, I swear ..."

"Bullshit!"

Ana physically cringed as the Commander held a menacing fist to her face. The son of a bitch was running out of patience, and she had to think fast. Her gaze thankfully fell on the wooden cross nailed on the wall behind the Commander's desk. All at once, a flash of sweet inspiration hit her, bringing hope along with it, making her feel well again in both body and spirit.

"You can't take me, no man can take me," she stated with conviction. "I've given myself to the Holy Roman Catholic Church." She skillfully lied.

"Wh-what?" The commander yelled, shaking his fist in anger. Behind him, his band subordinates chuckled and leered.

Ana blinked her eyes innocently. "I'm not wearing a nun habit yet because I haven't taken my final oath, but once I do, I will join the convent and give up my daytime job. " She paused, bravely looking at Sanchez straight in the eye. "You can't take me! I belong to the church. Have you no fear of God?"

That last statement struck a chord in the Commander, and he backed away a step or two, thinking. "Very well," he spoke at last. "I will take your word for it. But if I find out that you lied to me, I will come after you, _muchacha_." He then motioned to his subordinates to remove the handcuffs. "Alright, you're free to go...for now."

As soon as she was free, Ana stood and rubbed her wrists, avoiding eye contact. She was afraid he would see right through her ruse. As it was, it had been a miracle she'd been able to lie so convincingly, she thought, hiding a smile as she collected her things—namely her purse and a sweater- and left the police station. The worst part was over, but she should not claim victory just yet. There was still the chance Sanchez would follow through and actually checked out her story... and then what? Oh, shoot! Oh, well, she'll worry about that later.

* * *

...

Seattle, July 2018

"I see here you have a great deal law enforcement experience, considering your age, that is," said Raymond Steele looking over at Christian's resume. He was well aware of Christian's reputation as a skillful bounty hunter, and he'd frankly expected a man with a hardened look and right now, Christian Grey—save for his suit and tie- appeared more like a cast member of Friends than of Sherlock Holmes. "Did you ever watch Friends?"

Christian's eyes widened. In his line of work, he usually did not engage in small talk with new clients. "Excuse me?"

Raymond cocked his head just so, suppressing a chuckle. Admittedly, he was having a little fun. He'd been interviewing people for the job for the last three days, and so far none of the other candidates had impressed him. "My question is if you would identify more with Chandler, Ross or Joey, which one would you choose?"

"Neither," Christian said doing his best not to show he was a bit irritated by the question. "Joey was too much of a clown and Chandler too much of a sissy. And Ross, well, he was just too whiny."

"Well, now that we broke the ice," Raymond said with a small smile, "we can get down to business, shall we?"

Christian nodded, so the old man messed with him a little bit and it seemed like he passed the test. He shifted in his seat forward in his seat, ready to listen. Out of the corner of his eye, he caught a glimpse of the city through the impressive floor to ceiling windows in an office big enough to hold the World Series in or any other grand event for that matter.

"I know this mission is different from what you're used to. For one, the person I need you to find is not a criminal." He paused for a moment, making sure he had Christian's undivided attention. "She's my daughter. She's living in Cuba, and I just got word that she got detained by the authorities and labeled a defector and counter-revolutionary. I need help getting her out of that country. I would go there myself if I could, but the Cuban government has my name on their blacklist and won't grant me a visa to travel. Perhaps, the worst part is that they'd also put restrictions as to how much money I can send her," he shook his head and his forehead furrowed. "The amount is practically a joke."

Christian thought about it for a moment. Well, this was certainly something new; he'd never had a case where he needed to travel overseas much less to a communist country. Although in recent years, Cuba and the United States had re-established diplomatic relationships, this mission was a loose cannon. If something went wrong with this mission, he'd be subject to the laws of a different country, a country particularly known for its human rights abuses and restrictions on the rights of individuals.

"Tell me more about your daughter."

"She just turned eighteen. A stellar student, she just graduated from high school with honors. She just found a government job with the tourist industry working as a tour guide. She was helping a friend of hers flee the country on a raft headed for the coast of Florida. The raft got intercepted by Cuban authorities after four days adrift at sea. Ana got arrested and interrogated for two days, and the authorities marked as a counter-revolutionary, she lost her government job. Not only that, but her grandmother can no longer receive her retirement checks. Yes, I know, one thing has nothing to do with the other, but apparently, that's how the way things work in Cuba. If the government labels you as a counter-revolutionary, you go on their blacklist. And it's not just you but also your entire family for generations to come."

"Is she in immediate danger right now? Is she still in prison?"

"Fortunately, she's been released, but her situation is dire. Since she's considered a traitor to the revolution, she doesn't qualify for subsidies for meals and living expenses. Even though she had a side job making yogurt at home, the authorities have suspended her license to run her own business."

Christian shook his head in outrage. How was the girl supposed to survive with no job or any means to make a living? But the question that kept turning in his head was what was the girl doing in Cuba in the first place?

"How much time do we have here, sir?"

"A month or two at the most. But every day that my daughter spends in that God forsaken country is another day of suffering. So we must come up with a strategy yesterday."

Christian inwardly cringed. He imagined Raymond Steele's daughter in ragged clothes, surviving on bread and water only and the image made him shudder. It was almost inconceivable that this was happening to the daughter of such a powerful man. "What's your daughter's name?"

"Anastasia but she goes by Ana." He paused. "Ana spelled with one 'n.'"

Yes, he liked her name. Ana. Simple, yet sweet sounding. "Ana," he said her name making the first 'a' sound like a Spanish 'a.'

"I see here you've taken six years of Spanish," Raymond added flipping through Christian's resume. "Ana is fully bilingual in both English and Spanish."

Good. Christian nodded. Although his Spanish wasn't perfect, he could easily carry on a conversation. I hope he doesn't ask about Harvard.

"I need you to do whatever is necessary to get Ana out of Cuba," Raymond went on in a commandeering tone, having already decided Christian was the man for the job. Unlike the other candidates, he'd asked all the right questions and had not voiced any buts or objections. "Whatever it takes," he repeated for emphasis. "Money is no object. You name the figure."

Christian threw his shoulders back and puffed out his chest. In his mind, he saw himself reuniting this man with his daughter and becoming a hero. The recognition alone was enough compensation. Still, a man had to make a living and right now he was well fed but flat broke. "I normally charge 500 dollars a day, but since we're going international, that would be $1000 a day plus expenses."

The older man didn't even blink. "It's not a problem. Just get my daughter back."

"I'm not leaving Cuba without your daughter, Mr. Steele," Christian said with supreme confidence, and Raymond Steele nodded. "Mr. Steele, before we go any further, I must ask, how did Ana get herself in this situation...what brought her to Cuba in the first place?

 **A/N:**

Please review if you enjoyed this story. I have the first five chapters written in short condensed form. Your comments, big or small will help my muse fully flesh out the story. Thanks.


	2. Chapter 2

Chapter Two

Ana

Right after being released from prison, Ana went straight to the convent in Havana which also doubled as an orphan asylum, and was hired on the spot to perform the tasks of an errand girl. Some days she helped cook or sweep the floors, most days, she ran errands which included picking up groceries.

" _La Llorona_ has quite an appetite today."

"Oh, yes! she cleaned her plate!"

"Knock it off! Please don't call her that. She has a name now." Ana said to a group of young nuns-in-training one lazy afternoon. They were hanging out together in the kitchen drinking coffee and tea and feeding a small group of children. Ana had named the baby Liliana. She cooed her name softly, and the thirteen-month-old baby turned at the sound of her voice. Ana then lifted her from her highchair and hoisted her onto her hip, kissing her forehead. While the adults talked, Liliana was content to play with Ana' s cheaply- colored pink necklace.

Liliana had been dropped off at the convent two months ago by a relative who refused to give any information about her birth family. The baby girl arrived malnourished and inconsolable, and the nuns all took turns soothing her with varying degrees of success. The child cried so much that she'd been nicknamed _La Llorona_ , after the haunting legend of The Weeping Woman. It didn't even make any sense, Ana thought. According to the legend, there was a ghost woman who hovered above a river, trying to seduce people to their deaths with her pitiful cries. The tale was a spooky bedtime story told to children to make them behave. Ana thought it was the wrong kind of story to induce good behavior. If anything, the legend only taught her to avoid bathing alone in rivers and lakes.

The tiny girl had milk chocolate skin, big brown eyes, and long delicate eyelashes. She took an instant liking to Ana. It was love at first sight, and from that day forward she rarely cried. The only downside was that Ana usually had to carry her everywhere she went or else risk upsetting her.

"You're spoiling that child," said Mother Superior-the head nun, an austere-looking woman in her early sixties. Ana ignored her; her gut feeling told her the tiny girl needed love more than anything.

…...

Like most mornings, Ana took her place in line in front of the grocery store with a coupon book that allowed her to buy a certain number of cases of milk for the convent. The long line stretched all the way to the end of the block. On the opposite side of the street. A group of boys clad in shirts either too small or too big for them squatted on the ground shooting marbles. Behind them stood an eight-story concrete building. From the patio railings, white plastic shopping bags, rinsed and hung up to dry, fluttered in the air like ghosts.

Ana struck up a conversation with the woman in line behind her, a tanned woman with orange lipstick who claimed to be an elementary school teacher.

"Hey, everybody, this lady right here is a teacher," Ana said in a voice loud enough for everyone to hear. "She's gotta get to the front of the line! She only has a few minutes to make it to class."

The people at the front of the line gave them a blank look.

"C'mon...somebody? Please?"

"What do you care?" Someone behind her shouted, addressing Ana. "We all have to wait our turn. We were all equal here."

"You know what time we got here? We've been here since 5:00 A.M, if she wanted to get to class on time, she should have arrived here earlier," a man shouted. He was second in line.

"Well, thanks so much everybody for caring for our children's education!" Ana retorted sarcastically. "Right now, 40 kids waiting for their teacher to arrive. By the time she actually gets there, more than half would have gone home tired of waiting for her."

"Well, she should just leave and come back AFTER school."

"What do you care?" Another person, a woman in her fifties shouted. "Why don't you just mind your own darn business?"

"Hey, you know what...I'm just trying to make the world a better place, a better place for our children to grow up in. Do you have kids? Grandkids?"

The older woman just glared at Ana in response.

"I have kids," said a young woman at the front of the line. "Come to the front," she said looking at the teacher. "You can go ahead of me."

A handful of people in line grumbled and gave her hard cold stares. "Hey, the fair thing would be for you two to trade places instead," somebody said.

"Yeah, you should just take her place instead of letting her go in front of you."

"You know what I wish?" The younger woman retorted. "I wish my kids could grow up in a world where they don't have to spend two hours in line just to get groceries." She added as the teacher moved to the front of the line. "Thank you for your service; I'm sure you don't get enough recognition, yours is a hard job," she said to the teacher who smiled in response.

The teacher earned a good number of hard cold stares when she moved to the front of the line, but soon enough everyone went back to wearing their regular I'm-just-standing-in- line blank expressions. Ana went back to paying attention to Liliana who started getting a little fussy, rubbing her eyes. It was time for her nap, so Ana took off the baby carrier so that she could nap with her head on Ana's shoulder. Her nap, however, was short-lived.

Fifteen minutes later, a car went by, a decrepit looking Volvo with one broken headlight and a smoking exhaust. The driver drove by slowly; Ana recognized the driver at once. It was her friend Manuel; she hadn't seen him since back in sixth grade when she got transferred to a different school.

"Ana? Long time no see!" Manuel—dark hair, tanned skinned and somewhat attractive- parked his vehicle a few feet from where Ana stood. The young man stepped out of the car, smiling. But his smile faded the minute he got closer, and his gaze fell on Liliana. "You got married?"

"Oh, no. I'm not married. She's not mine. She's an orphan at the convent I work at." She said kissing the top of the baby's head. "She's really attached to me, so I take her everywhere I go. How have you been?"

"Pretty good. I'm between jobs right now but my friends and I, we're musicians, you know, we play at the nightclub once or twice a week." Manuel said. Ana nodded. "Hey, are you busy later, beautiful? We could go dancing?"

"I don't know," Ana replied noncommittally. Her days were so filled with activity that she usually crashed in the evenings when she got home. She tried explaining this to Manuel. From the looks of it, she was going to be standing in line for the next couple of hours. Every day, she needed to get up at the crack of dawn to get milk for the twenty orphans at the convent.

"My folks have farm animals out in the barn including cows. Why don't you come home with me? I can get you a couple of cases of milk. All you have to do is help me milk the cows."

Ana was pleasantly surprised. "Really?" His offer seemed like an answer to her prayer. If she stayed in line not only would she be here for another couple of hours and what's worse, there was a real possibility that once she got to the front of the line, there would be a shortage of milk. Actually, if she was honest with herself, it was quite likely that would be the case. Whenever she failed to arrive early - before 6 am that is, the more likely she wouldn't get the items on her list. And today, she was an hour late arriving at the store. "Okay, that would be great," Ana smiled gratefully.

Manuel lit a cigarette almost as soon as he got behind the wheel, and waited for Ana to climb onto the passenger side to offer her one but she shook her head no. She'd never picked up the habit. He tapped his aches out the window and drove off with the windows rolled down. Ana sat with Liliana on her lap and pointed at the road and the billboards, her hair fluttering in the wind. The billboards weren't advertisements; they were political messages about Castro, Che Guevara, and the socialist revolution. The paper was peeling, and rust ran down the signs where they'd been nailed to the posts.

Once they got to Manuel's farmhouse, about 45 miles away from Havana, Manuel introduced her to his mother who had been working in the kitchen. She offered Ana a bowl of soup and a cup of milk for Liliana and Ana accepted. The last couple of months have been hard for Ana-she'd lost her government job-and food had been scarce. Even though working at the convent earned three meals a day, she often ended up sharing her plate with the children at the orphanage.

"Thank you so much," Ana said to the kind woman. "The soup was absolutely delicious."

Manuel's mother smiled and tried taking Liliana into her arms, but her little fists clung onto Ana's shirt like a frightened kitten. The woman had to pry the baby's fingers off forcibly. Ana's heart broke to hear her wails of protest, but she really couldn't milk the cows with the baby clinging onto her, could she?

After milking the cows out in the barn, Ana followed Manuel back to the house which was modestly furnished. Together, they went into the kitchen and poured the milk into glass containers. After that, Ana went into the bathroom. She washed her face and combed her hair with a comb she carried in her jean pocket and pulled her hair back into a ponytail. The wind had really messed up her hair, but once she pulled it back, she felt so much better. Still, she sighed at her reflection in the mirror. She wasn't happy. She saw someone in need of nicer clothing and a little makeup to feel attractive.

"Where's your mama?" She asked Manuel.

"She's putting the baby to sleep," he replied. He then asked her to sit with him on the couch in the living room for a little while and rest.

"I probably should get going," Ana said. "Mother Superior must be wondering where I am."

"I will drive you back. Just sit with me for a little bit," Manuel insisted, and she reluctantly sat beside him. Something about the way he was looking at her now was creeping her out, but she couldn't just take off and leave. She was miles from home or the convent, and she didn't even have her bike with her. Never mind that, even if she had the bike, she couldn't take the baby with her.

"My, you look pretty." He murmured, stretching his arm across the back of the sofa and leaning closer. He sent a smile her way and followed that with a kiss to her cheek.

Ana blinked. She didn't think she looked particularly beautiful today. She was dressed plainly in a pair of jeans, a pink top with bleach stains and a pair of flats that had seen better days. Never mind that, she had to let Manuel know that even though she'd had a crush on him back in sixth grade, her feelings had changed.

"No, thanks, I'm not getting myself knocked up today." She said matter-of-factly, moving away from him. "You're destined for a better life," her father often said to her in his letters or whenever they spoke over the phone.

Manuel was shocked at her directness. Every girl he'd ever known had tap-danced around the subject of sex. After a moment, however, he recovered and said, "Who are you saving yourself for? You still believe in knights in shining armor?"

Ana was saving herself for that special someone who she intended to spend the rest of her life with, yet she said nothing to Manuel. He would probably just laugh at her.

...

Later

Just like he promised, Manuel dropped her off at the doors of the convent and even helped her carry the crates of milk to the kitchen while she went to put Liliana in her crib. He then promptly vanished without so much of a goodbye and Ana had the feeling she would not see the likes of him again now that she'd turned down his advances. Oh, well. She really didn't have time to dwell on that, she realized, she was late for mass. Daily attendance was one of the stipulations that Mother Superior had imposed when Ana came knocking on their door looking for work.

Mother Superior chastised her as soon as Ana slid into the pew beside her (earlier she had spotted Manuel dropping her off). "A modest young lady of honor never rides alone with a man without a proper chaperon. She must always worry about tarnishing her reputation." She whispered, slowly enunciating each word staccato so that each made good its full value.

"Sorry I'm late... I went to a farm and milked some cows." Ana said loud enough for everyone to hear. "And now we have fresh milk for the children for three whole days," she added proudly. All heads, including the priest, turned back to stare and Ana hid a smile. While she was grateful for the help the nuns provided her in her time of need, she was not going to take bad treatment from anyone, not even the nuns. Nobody had the right to speak to her like that, not even Mother Superior.

"Oh...and regarding my reputation...don't worry, Mother Superior, I had my birth control with me," Ana spoke again, her voice loud enough for everyone-the nuns and the priest - to hear.

This time, as soon as Ana said the words: Birth control, all the nuns gasped and stared-eyes as wide as saucers. And the priest developed a sudden cough attack so severe he loosened his collar and furiously fanned himself in distress. Ana figured the words 'birth control' were quite literally a cardinal sin.

" _Senorita_ Steele!" Mother Superior rebuked, looking at her over the rim of her thick glasses with disdain. "Let me remind you-you're in a sacred place."

"I had Liliana with me the entire time I was with Manuel," Ana explained without missing a beat. "She's the best birth control there is, seriously. She sticks to me like glue."

Ana had delivered the punch with just the right amount of casual off-handedness necessary to make a few of the nuns cover their mouths to hide their laughter.

…..

Later, after mass, Mother Superior pulled Ana aside to get back at her big time. "If Comandante Sanchez ever inquires about your role here at our convent, I would have no choice but, to tell the truth, you understand that, don't you?" She paused. Ana opened her mouth to speak but said nothing. "All I'm saying is that I cannot lie under any circumstances," she went on matter-of-factly. "I will have to tell him you're just our errand girl."

Luckily for Ana, Sanchez had not stopped by the convent to talk to Mother Superior about her. Interestingly, Ana had caught him watching her coming in and out of the convent on more than one occasion when he was supposedly on his way to church. Maybe because Ana had waved back when he'd looked in her direction as though she had nothing to hide.

…...

Later

Ana arrived home late that night. As always, her Mami, as she affectionately called her grandmother, stayed up waiting for her sitting on the couch in front of their small black and white TV set with rabbit ears. She'd been caught up watching a popular soap opera.

"Here, Mami." Ana put down on the kitchen table a plastic bag that contained a plate of beans and rice. "Did you eat already?"

"Yes, _Mija_. Did you have supper already?"

"Yes," Ana lied. The truth was that she'd been too busy to eat (she always went the extra mile and helped with the children at the orphanage). Usually, by the time she had a chance to grab a bite to eat, she wasn't even hungry. With a sigh, she put the plate in the fridge for tomorrow.

"You're skin and bones, _Mija_ ," Mami said worriedly. But then, her face brightened a little with excitement. She was about to share the best news ever. "Guess what? He's coming in three days."

"Who? Who's coming?"

"Your papa! Yes, your papa called. He's sending a man, a private detective I think, like Magnum P.I," she said with a small wink, "to take you to the United States of America."

...

Christian

"It's a long story," Ray began.

"I just need the relevant points, if you don't mind," Christian said. "By the way, do you have a picture of Ana?"

Raymond leaned back in his chair and picked up the only framed picture on his desk and turned it around for Christian to see. The black and white photo was a vintage Polaroid of ten-year-old Ana smiling at the camera with a tabby cat in her arms. She cradled the cat like a baby, stomach up, the expression on her face so tender it struck right at his heart.

"I met Ana's mother, Carla in high school." Raymond went on while Christian continued to study the photograph.

"Do you have a more current picture of Ana?"

"I'm afraid not."

Christian shook his head in disbelief. How was that possible?

"Carla and I met at a high school dance. She was fifteen, and I was seventeen," Raymond continued without missing a beat. "She wore a gorgeous strapless satin gown, and we had one dance. That was all it took, one dance. We look into each other's eyes, and it was love at first sight," he went on with a faraway look, making his storytelling even more romantic than he originally intended.

"Her parents were Cubans, strict, old school. They didn't want her dating, but Carla always managed to sneak out of the house when her parents were sleeping. Of course, the inevitable happened. Her parents went ballistic when they found out their daughter was pregnant. Long story short, they took her back to Cuba, and I never saw her again."

Christian raised both brows. "Seems rather drastic."

Raymond nodded slightly. "Ana was born in Havana six months later, but I had no idea she existed. Carla's parents prevented her from getting in touch with me."

"So Ana is a Cuban citizen?"

"No. No. Even though Ana was born in Cuba, she has dual nationality. When I was in Cuba, I filed all the paperwork for her to bear my last name. Not an easy task, as she was born out of wedlock. Still, Ana has all the rights and privileges of an American citizen. She was born to American parents." Ray took a deep breath and let it out slowly. "Anyway, I didn't even know Ana existed until she was six or seven years old. Carla sent me a letter and a couple of pictures. We corresponded for a while, Carla went back and forth on wanting to return to the US. Anyway, back then, there was no American embassy in Cuba, and the embargo's restrictions made traveling to Cuba almost impossible. And then I learned that Carla was getting married. I took a flight to Cancun and then to Havana. I was still in love with her, and I was hoping to be able to stop her from marrying this guy, an army general I believe. Unfortunately, by the time I arrived, she was already married."

"Sorry to hear that...but at least you got to meet Ana?"

"Yes. Not only that, but Ana and I bonded in the six months I lived in Cuba. Naturally, I wanted to bring her home with me, but at the same time, I didn't want to take her away from her mother. I left with a heavy heart. Ana was in tears when I left. She told me she was coming to live with me one day and I promised I would make it happen. Fate had other plans. Carla passed away later that same year after giving birth to a baby who did not survive either."

What an ill-fated love story, Christian thought. It must have been terrible for Ana to lose her mother at such a young age.

"I hired an international lawyer to sue for custody. My custody appeal got denied on the basis that I had no proof I was Ana's biological parent, even though I had Carla's letters and she had also signed an affidavit while I was in Cuba stating I was Ana's father and she could bear my last name. Can you believe the courts stated that a marriage certificate was the proof of paternity they could accept?" He shook his head, and his voice rose in anger. " I also wrote an open letter to Castro asking him to allow Ana to travel outside the country and the press picked up the story, it got some international attention, but the case dragged with no good results. Years went by, and my little girl was growing up without me. Although we stayed in touch, we talked on the phone, and I sent her letters and books and gifts whenever possible, and I tried my best to remain an important part of my her life. It hasn't been easy. Over the years, I've had virtually no communication with Gladys, Ana's maternal grandmother. A couple of months ago, the woman finally sent me a letter after so many years of hating me for getting her daughter pregnant. She was worried about Ana. A few of her friends were leaving the island on flimsy tugboats, and she was worried Ana would end up going down the same path. The letter didn't arrive in time to stop her."

"Surely Ana has a good head on her shoulders; she should know better than that." He paused to consider what Raymond Steele had mentioned earlier. "You said she was helping some friends leave the island...but did she stay behind in Cuba or did she leave with them?"

"Yes, she was also on the raft. Of course, she didn't mention that to me beforehand, or I would have talked her out of it. The raft's makeshift motor broke down, and they were adrift for days. Can you imagine? She could have died!" Raymond went on, mortified. "I guess that her counter-revolutionary friends talked her into this. She tells me she's not really into politics," he shrugged. "But I really don't know exactly what she's been up to. Anyhow, we wouldn't be having this conversation if the Cuban government would have returned my daughter to me, as her only living parent, I SHOULD have been granted custody of Ana. Instead, the Cuban government put me on their blacklist because of the open letter I wrote denouncing their regime and won't grant me a visa. They claim that since Ana was born in Cuba, she's a Cuban citizen, but in reality, she has dual nationality.

Christian raised a brow. "It sounds like Ana is a prisoner of Cuba."

Raymond nodded. "My sentiments exactly. And the question is, what are we going to do about it? She's now legally an adult and can legally choose the United States as her country of residence, at least according to our immigration laws. The Cuban government is the holdup." He paused, giving Christian a chance to switch gears. "I'm telling you, right now, I want you to move heaven and earth to get my daughter into this country. This country is where she belongs. She was born to American parents, and that makes her an American. I want you to do whatever it takes; money is no object. You will have all the money and the resources at your disposal...we need to work together on this and keep the lines of communication open and play it by ear. Unfortunately, it won't be easy. For one, there is virtually no broadband internet access in Cuba. Mobile communication is limited to voice and texting applications. There are centers of public internet access where there is a fee to log onto the internet, but even so, most access is through government-controlled Intranet and a national e-mail system."

"Sounds like they're living in the dark ages, " Christian mumbled.

"Yes, it certainly reminds me of the early days of the internet when we had dial-up access."

Christian cringed inwardly. He couldn't imagine living his life without 24 access to the modern convenience of the internet. Furthermore, being always connected was such a huge part of his lifestyle that losing that connection would be the equivalent of finding himself suddenly adrift at sea without food or water. And yet, there were people out there like Ana who lived their entire lives without it. It was mind-boggling!

But there was no turning back; in his mind, he'd already decided he was getting Anastasia Steele out of Cuba come hell or high water.

"So are you up for the job?" Raymond studied Christian closely, giving him one more chance to back out it seemed. "A few months ago," Raymond went on without giving him a chance to respond to his question. "As soon as Ana turned eighteen, I hired a veteran to get Ana out of Cuba, but he failed miserably at navigating through miles of red tape on both sides of the water. In the end, Ana got her US passport confiscated by the customs agents. Your job would be to get Ana's passport back from the Cuban authorities. Your job will entail a certain degree of diplomacy if you know what I mean. I will give you a power of attorney so you can act on my behalf and sign any documents. "How does that sound?"

"Wait a second," Christian said. "How did Ana get a US passport?"

"Yes, sorry I went over that part rather fast. Three years ago when the US embassy reopened for the first time in Havana after more than fifty years of closing, Ana went to the embassy herself and applied for a passport. It was a bit tricky since she was technically still a minor but I worked closely with the embassy and as her parent was able to give my consent electronically." He paused, knowing he needed to give Christian some time to process all the information he'd just given him.

"Okay, then. I can leave on the next flight."

"Good. Because I already have reservations for a commercial flight to Cancun for this Friday. We just need to change it to your name." Raymond smiled, satisfied. But then his expression changed from pleased to curiosity. "I take it you're not leaving a girlfriend or significant other behind, are you?"

"I'm not, I'm single and carefree."

"Perfect. I'm trusting you with my daughter here. So, whatever you do, don't fall in love with my daughter. That's the only thing I ask."

Christian raised a brow. What was he supposed to say to that? "Please rest assured, sir. I take my job very seriously, and I would never cross professional boundaries. I'm a man of my word." It was true, the last thing he wanted was to fall in love, his track record with women wasn't exactly worth bragging about.

 **A/N:** I hope you all liked my version of Ana.

Should A& C meet in the next chapter or the next one after that? Will it be love at first sight?


	3. Chapter 3

**A/N:** Thanks to Calicutie77 for catching all those mistakes I miss when I type too fast.

Chapter Three

Ana

Ana shook her head in disbelief. Her father wouldn't just do something like that. He wouldn't just send a private detective to the island without checking with her first. Would he? And even if he did, he wouldn't just say it over the phone; he would say it in code in case their communication was being tapped. That was one of the reasons they normally discussed important matters by phone rather than by mail.

"Mami, that can't be, I'm sure you heard wrong." Poor Mami must have misunderstood, English was her second language after all.

"No, no. My English is good enough, _mija_ , I understood everything." Her grandmother replied as though she'd been reading Ana's mind.

"Whenever there is sensitive information like that, we have a code." Ana retorted. It was standard procedure. Anyone could be listening to the conversations; there was no privacy in Cuba. It was so unlike her dad to share that type of information so carelessly. They had a system. Usually, her father called the Neighbor-with whom they shared a wall. In turn, the neighbor who would come and get Ana. They used the neighbors as intermediaries, and it had been working perfectly.

"I know. He didn't come out and say it; it was in code. He mentioned Magnum P.I, your mama's favorite TV show," Gladys said, a bit choked up when saying her late daughter's name, and Ana couldn't help but respond with a sympathetic nod. "His exact words were: Magnum P.I will be coming soon to take her where she belongs. It was obvious to me."

Ana felt a rush of affection for her sweet grandmother and pulled her into a hug. She felt bad for her now that she was not able to cash her retirement checks which meant she couldn't afford any luxuries like getting her favorite brand of shampoo. So Ana had to find creative ways to get everything they needed. Thankfully, the nuns at the convent would often share their food and toiletries (now considered a luxury) with her so that she and Mami wouldn't have to do without.

The next day, Ana tried to call her father and went to the nearest phone booth to the convent to make an international call to her father. "Daddy, what's going on? Are you really sending Magnum P.I to the island?"

...

Christian

The Cuban next to Christian took a swig of rum from those silly little bottles the stewardess give you with a sneer when you ask for a triple. He looked at him and said: "Cuban vibes."

Next thing he knew, he and the rest of the passengers were trudging along to the immigration counters.

"Passport please-stamp, stamp, and "Gracias, welcome to Cuba."

The immigration officials were surprised Christian carried no luggage. He traveled light with a backpack as his the goal was to blend in with the locals as much as possible of course. At least as long as he didn't open his mouth to speak, that is. Even though Christian had good command of the language, he still sounded like a gringo speaking Spanish. He kept moving forward, bypassing the baggage claim area and headed for the exit doors with confidence. Several taxi men were standing around waiting for fares, making eye contact with him, competing for his attention.

It was a split moment decision; he chose the youngest driver who sported tattoos on his forearm and who appeared like at one time he might have been a gang member.

He had done his homework; he knew that as a tourist, he was expected to stay in the dollar economy rather than negotiate with the local currency. In reality, he had no choice but to hire a dollar taxi. Even if he wanted to, he knew he wouldn't be allowed to ride the cheap pesos taxis crammed in with Cubans. As a tourist, he was expected to stay with his kind and on the outside. But of course, Christian had every intention of mixing in with the locals. The restrictions were too limiting, however, and made his job a lot harder. Somehow, he would have to find the way to operate outside of the confines of the category he'd been boxed in. It was going to be difficult though because he didn't sound like a Cuban or look like a Cuban—his complexion was too pale.

"My name is Jose," the taxi driver said in English as Christian climbed in the back seat of the vehicle. "Welcome to Cuba," he smiled a practiced smile.

Christian looked out the rear passenger window of the taxi-a small blue car whose make he couldn't readily identify- as they drove past the airport toward downtown Havana. He saw the same decrepit billboards that Ana had seen a few days ago when as Manuel had taken her to his family farm. They passed run-down factories and a stream of buildings trimmed in bright blue as if no other color could possibly be found. Closer to the city, they followed a truck laying down a fog of blue smoke through a quivering exhaust pipe. The back of the vehicle had wooden sides, and the people holding on, not workers but ordinary people, nicely dressed, women mostly, and some children. Why were they riding in the back of a truck? Was this their regular mode of transportation? He was about to ask when they spotted a 1953 Dodge.

"My grandfather had one just like it," Christian said out loud. Metal pipes formed the front bumper of the ancient machine and brake lights had been welded on top of the rear fenders.

As they drove through the city, Christian caught himself looking at his phone every five minutes and finding it strange that there were no notifications on the screen, and he had to remind himself he had no signal or Wi-Fi connection. He spotted a collarless dog limping across the sidewalk; it was amazingly skinny. Behind it were gray concrete apartment buildings. Further ahead was the ministry building, the cab driver announced. In front of the building was a smooth stone facade looking out into the city with the image of Che Guevara. It was not a photograph but a line drawing made of steel and amazingly accurate: the firm mouth and flowing hair; the piercing eyes fixed on the glorious future; the beret with its star. Acting the part of a tourist, Christian took out his phone and took a picture of the sculpture with the vehicle in motion.

The little blue car swerved to avoid a series of potholes, and in the next moment, they arrived at their destination. Jose repeated the address out loud: 1222 Los Coches just as he pulled at the curve.

At first glance, it appeared as though he was staring at a single story dwelling with four doors and eight windows. But it wasn't a house. Beside each door there was a number nailed to the wall; the building was a four dwelling unit with shared walls. Christian looked down on his phone to verify the address. Even though he had no internet access, he could still view his old emails and browsing history.

Ana's home was on the left-hand corner. The number was 1222. It was painted green and with a yellow door, and there were bars on the tall skinny windows. The other three connecting homes were painted in different colors. All four showed their age and were in need of painting. Christian was glad Ana didn't live at one of those gray concrete apartments. Palm trees and an overhanging poinciana tree gave the property a homey feeling. He figured the home had been in the family for generations and that Ana's family had been in the upper middle class before the revolution of 1959.

Christian was tempted to exit the cab and knock on the front door. But no, he was here to get a good look at the neighborhood and take mental notes. He couldn't stay long; there was no telling when Ana or her grandmother might spot him, and his goal was to make himself invisible in order to gather enough intel before he met Ana. So he asked the Jose to take him back to Hotel Santa Isabel, a colonial style, waterfront hotel. It was not the best on the island, it was a four-star hotel, but Christian thought it was in a good location and it would allow him to move around the island without attracting too much attention to himself.

The hotel was located in what was known as the tourist district. After checking in the hotel, Christian left his backpack in the room with his passport and wallet in the front pocket of his jeans. His plan was to become familiar with his surroundings and observe how the locals behaved and somehow, find a way of blending in. Before wandering the streets of Havana he pulled out from a secret compartment of his backpack, a carbon fiber ventilator knife shaped like a regular cheap pen. He slid it in the front pocket of his short sleeved dress shirt for self-defense. That same afternoon he went for a walk along Cuba's famous esplanade called El Malecon which stretches for kilometers along the waterfront . Here the city's soul can be felt like the thump thump rhythm of a bass guitar. He felt dazzled by the smells, noises and color. For a few moments Christian thought he'd traveled back in time to the fifties and sixties as old Chevys, Fords, Dodges and Cadillacs whizzed by. Further south he hit the tourist trail and was swallowed by the crowds of people milling about the crafts fair, lines of booths with hand carved ox carts and maracas and the other assorted trash that tourists took home.

Before dropping him off, Jose had given him the name of a place where he could get a tattoo. Jose had been more than happy to tell him about the tattoo parlor where he's gotten his tattoos. Even though it was quite a bit of a walk, Christian decided to walk there instead of taking a dollar taxi. As a seasoned traveler, he knew that the best way to assimilate was to walk everywhere and observe people. He'd been to Australia, Europe and China. However, his only experience with Spanish speaking countries was his visit to socialist Venezuela three years ago. He figured he'd learned a thing or two while he was there and he could use his experience there to help him navigate around Cuba.

The tattoo parlor was located in a colonial building where there were several businesses including a travel agency. When he got inside, he referenced Jose by name and asked to see a tattoo artist. The tattoo artist asked him some questions and was a bit nervous about doing a tattoo for a tourist since his business was technically illegal in Cuba. Yes, this was something he couldn't avoid. His pale skin was a dead giveaway of his foreigner status.

Christian put on the counter a couple of hundreds and asked the man for a snake tattoo on his forearm like the one he'd seen on Jose. He wasn't particularly crazy about getting a tattoo, but it was a small price to pay in order to accomplish his mission. After the man finished with the design, Christian asked where he could get a good old fashioned portable Swiss army knife. The man hesitated for a moment before bringing out a collection of knives. Even though Christian had packed a couple of non-metallic knives that would not be detected by airport security, nothing beat the utility of a Swiss army knife. Luckily, the tattoo man had one. Christian smoothly slid another 100 dollar bill on the counter and asked if he had a handgun he could buy. Guns were also illegal, so he was taking a chance.

Tattoo man set a small pistol on the counter and an ankle holster to carry it as a concealed weapon. "This is going to cost you much more," he said with a sleazy smile.

Christian produced another couple of 100 dollar bills which earned him a satisfied nod from the other man.

For the next three days, Christian wandered through the city streets until he was sure he knew his way around with his eyes closed. It was hot, and he was frequently thirsty and had to ask for water at different establishments. Thank goodness he'd brought his water purification tablets. He concentrated his efforts in the Tourist District and Anastasia Steele's neighborhood. He walked by different times of the day wearing a baseball cap, watching the comings and goings.

The first time Christian saw Ana, he thought she looked like a vision with her sun-kissed brown strands glowing in the sun with natural highlights; her hair piled on top of her head and with tendrils falling haphazardly around her face. She looked lovely dressed in jeans and a short-sleeved buttoned down shirt. Even if he hadn't seen her walk out of unit 1222, he would have recognized her as the little girl in the picture that Raymond Steele had shown him in his office. He could only imagine what it would be like meeting her face to face and hearing the sound of her voice.

From his hiding place, he watched her every morning exiting her house. He would then follow her from a safe distance, breathing the crisp morning air all the way to the convent. There, he would watch her bent over in the garden on the front yard with two or three small children around her picking tomatoes. At times he saw her kneeling. Once he saw her hunkering like a small child, rocking back and forth on her toes.

He looked forward to seeing her every morning. She was so incredibly slender. She had nice breasts though and girlish hips and long hair that hung in wisps around her shoulders. Every once in a while, she would look up after picking the tomatoes and look up in his direction. She had a beautiful smile. A pleasant smile, a smile that spoke of friendliness. But that smile of hers always seemed so far away, unreachable, as though they were navigating in different continents.

On the sixth day, a Monday, Christian went to Ana's house when he knew she would be at the convent. He took a dollar taxi part of the way and walked the rest of the way, about three blocks, to the house. He exited the cab swinging his backpack on one shoulder and knocked on the front door.

Gladys welcomed him in inside with a smile, and he knew at once that he would love this lovely older lady. Actually, looking at her face, she wasn't even that old, not nearly as old as he imagined a grandmother to be. Her face placed her in her fifties and yet she dressed in loose fitting/depressing kind of clothing which made her look at least fifteen years older, he later realized.

As soon as she realized who he was, she greeted him with a hug, making him feel as though he was her long-lost grandson. Realizing he'd traveled with no luggage beside the backpack, she gave him a long quizzical look. Then, she led him to her small living room/dining room combo. The room had polished terrazzo floor and heavy furniture with a big television in the corner.

She stood at the threshold to the kitchen and offered him something to drink—soda, coffee, juice. No liquor.

He choose a cola type drink. The kitchen, with its dated appliances and tile floor, was scrupulously clean. There were wooden shelves on the walls instead of cabinets, holding dishes and spices, and a wide window that led to the backyard. There were rows of plants in bright jars lining up on a ledge above the sink, just below the window.

"Christian, you're six days late," Ana's grandmother said in English. "We were expecting you, but you did not come," Gladys said handing him the soda in a crystal clear glass.

The woman had a thick Cuban accent, and yet her command of English was quite good, Christian decided, taking a long sip of his drink. "Sorry about that."

She nodded as if to say it was okay. She then led the way to the living room where they sat together in the pin-cushioned sofa. He noticed her hands, she was fiddling with piece of string. Her nails were unpolished and her hands roughed by work. And just for an instant, he found himself thinking of Ana's hands. He imagined them soft and delicate, but also at the same time, roughed by manual labor. The contradiction was decidedly striking.

"And Ana is not here; she's working at the convent. She works there every day, all day, except on Sundays."

I know, I've been watching her. "Mrs. Salgedo-" He nearly said.

"Please call me Gladys.

"I will come back and meet her at a later time." He smiled.

Gladys raised a brow of alarm. "Wh-what? Where are you going? You just arrived!"

Christian smiled, leaning back on the couch, making himself more comfortable. "I'm staying at a hotel in the Tourist District."

"Oh, no. I won't hear of it," she said with a dismissive wave of the hand. "You can stay here with us. We have an extra room. As a matter of fact, it's perfect. We've been looking for a tenant. But I have been-how do you say-selective? Yes, I've been selective. I only rent to women, but with you, I will make an exception, of course." she said with a sheepish smile that he found rather charming as it reminded him of his own dear grandmother.

"Gladys, thanks so much for the offer but I would really feel more comfortable in a hotel." He paused noting that Gladys was shaking her head sadly. "I'm glad we're getting a chance to get to know each other before I meet Ana. You're the most important person in her life. Before we go any further, however, I want to make sure you understand." He paused for effect. "I'm here to take Ana to the United States to be reunited with her father... and that once that's accomplished, it will be for good...forever. Ana will never be able to come back to Cuba."

Gladys smile faded. "Yes, yes, I understand."

"All right. In that case, I hope you will be accompanying your granddaughter."

"Oh, no, dear. This is my home. I would never leave Cuba. Even though I lived in the United States when I was young, I have come back to my roots and I'm just... _estoy muy vieja._

"No, you're not too old," Christian said sincerely. "Please don't think that way."

"Oh, no. I'm no spring chicken...I'm a grandmother," she said coyly.

"Yes...a grandmother who is younger than most," Christian pointed out, and Gladys smiled at that. After a moment, he spoke again. "How long did you live in the United States?"

"Over eighteen years. My husband and I moved shortly after we got married. We had our daughter Carla there. And well, I suppose you know the story, Carla got herself pregnant. As it happened, my mother who was living in this same house was diagnosed with dementia at around that same time. As her only child, I needed to come back and take care of her."

"So you uprooted your entire family."

"I did," she nodded with a thin smile.

"And if you don't mind me asking, do you believe it was for the best?"

"Well, let's just say, _lo que paso paso_. That's just life. My husband died of a heart attack and my only daughter, my only child also died. Ana is all I have left." She said with a heavy expression. "But I want a better life for Ana. My heart will always be broken, but at least I will know she has a better life. Do you understand?"

Christian nodded. "I do hope that you reconsider and decide to come back to the US with us." He paused. There was a short comfortable silence. "Tell me more about Ana. If you had to use three adjectives to describe her, which ones would you choose?"

"Oh, that's a hard one. Only three?" She chuckled, and Christian decided she was trustworthy. "Well, okay. Hmm... Loving, smart, outspoken."

"Your English is excellent. Do you know that?" Christian said taking a long sip of his drink.

"Oh, no, don't say that." Glady's dismissed him with a wave of the hand that he was starting to see more like one of her signature gestures. "You're too kind. Although I do practice my English with Ana sometimes, I know I make mistakes. And when my daughter was alive...well, she always spoke English at home. It was her native language; she was born in the United States you know. My poor Carla did have trouble adjusting to Cuba, poor thing. She wanted to go back to the US, but then she fell in love and got married...and you know how that went," she paused with a pained expression. "Anyway, back to Ana...she's a wonderful girl, one of a kind."

"So she's outspoken you say? Is she a political activist?"

"Yes, she's always been outspoken. My dear husband, God rest his soul, always encouraged that in her. I don't think she's a true political activist, but she's helped her friends _contra-revolucionarios._ "

"Can you tell me more about these friends?"

"Hmm... let's see. She has lots of friends. The most important ones? Hmm...there's Marisol...and Jose and a few others. Marisol is still in prison though; she was not as lucky as Ana. Although while Ana was in prison, they came here and they took everything-our computer, our books," she said, her gaze drifting to the empty bookcases in their living room. They took Raymond's letters to Carla and Ana. Our picture frames we had on display with pictures of our family...even a certificate from Ana's school when she won a prize for writing a short children's story. I will never know why they did that...why did they, _Dios Mio_ (dear Lord) need the pictures or the letters?"

"That was truly despicable for them to do that," Christian said, outraged. "We'll have to find a way to get your stuff back."

...

Ana

"But Mami, WHERE is he staying?"

Gladys shrugged. "I don't know; he didn't tell me.

Ana can't believe this. "Why wouldn't he leave his number or at the very least his room number?

Mami shrugged again. "He says to wait until he comes back for you."

Ana let out a huff. This was truly unbelievable. What on earth could he be doing more important than meeting with her? She was dying to meet him so she could yell at him for making her wait this long. "So what does he look like?"

"Hmm?"

"I'm going to look for him in the tourist district. What does he look like?"

Mami smirked. There was something in her abuela's (granny's) eyes that sparkled in a certain way. It was obvious that Christian Grey had made quite an impression on her.

"Well? Are you gonna tell me?"

"He's nice, very nice...He's tall, very slim and tall. He has gray eyes, broad shoulders and his hair is this elusive shade of copper."

Ana raised a brow, intrigued. "So he's good-looking then?"

"Good looking?" Gladys let out a chuckle. " _Mija!_ He's the epitome of male beauty. Absolutely breathtaking."

Ana was in shock; she'd never heard her grandmother express herself about any member of the opposite sex in such a liberated manner as if she'd been reading too many trashy romance novels. Ana's mind wandered, recalling a couple of Harlequin titles that would make the nuns at the convent blush a deep crimson. But, the thing was, life was not a romance novel, Ana reminded herself. Yet, she couldn't help but wonder about Christian. Was he single? Did he have a girlfriend?

"No, _nada_. He doesn't have anybody no girlfriend, " Mami answered with a smile as though she'd been reading her mind, and with the tiniest little wink. The wink was so small that Ana wondered if perhaps she had imagined it, for she certainly she'd never seen Mami so excited about any member of the male species. As a matter of fact, her grandma was so choosy she had frowned upon every single one of the boys she'd brought home back in high school.

…...

That Sunday, Ana, rode her bike to the part of town known as the tourist district in Old Havana, determined to find Christian among the tourists. This area was usually densely populated by tourists as it was surrounded by several hotels. Ana went into every hotel asking for the manager. The managers all knew Ana from back when she used to work for the tourist industry. She was looking for a man named Christian Grey who arrived on the island three or four days ago, she told them. Nope, they told her, there was no one by the name. Of course, she should have known.

"What does he look like?" They asked her.

Ana pursed her lips. She wished she had a picture, but she figured she needs to zero in on every single guy aged forty and under.

She watched the tourists get in and out of the tourist bus and scanned the faces. There were a lot of couples and some families, but she had yet to spot anyone who could be Christian Grey. She strolled around every restaurant and souvenir shop. It just didn't make sense. Why would Mr. Grey be hanging around with the tourists but then again, where else could he possibly be?

Once she reached the plaza, she hung around the street vendors selling books and fruit and searched the faces of those around her.

...

Unbeknownst to her, Christian was following her movements from a safe distance. He watched her interact with the street vendors and smile at a young boy selling fruit. But then, most unexpectedly, Ana turned in his direction, as if she could sense his presence behind quickly made a turn into an alley to avoid being seen, navigating toward a three-story building where a young girl leaned against the doorway. Christian figured the girl was probably around Ana's age. After making eye contact with him, she made an "O" with the thumb and forefinger of her left hand. Then, with her right hand, she pumped the index finger of her right hand through the "O" and beckoned to him, pointing to the staircase behind her. It was the gesture of the world's oldest profession. Christian made a U-turn and hid behind an alley for a second or two before heading back to where he'd last seen Ana.

...

In the meantime, Ana followed an American tourist who fit Christian's description into a nightclub. The man was in his thirties and had light brown hair. Up close, she was not so sure he was Christian. His hair was light but definitely brown, and she couldn't see any copper in it. Plus, he wasn't all that attractive. Still, she sat beside him on the bar. He was definitely looking for some action tonight and smiled at her in appreciation. She wasted no time with niceties and went straight to the point.

"Are you Christian?" She asked point- blank in English.

"Not really. I'm not a Christian. I'm not exactly religious." The man said with a smirk. "But thanks for asking."

"That's not what I asked," she replied coolly. "I asked if you're name was Christian...but you're obviously not him." The real Christian wouldn't have made such a lame joke.

"Forget him. How about me? Are you from around here?" He asked, cocking his head, his eyes appraising her. "You...you do sound American."

Ana rolled her eyes. If this guy wasn't Christian, she wasn't interested in having any kind of conversation with him, just the way he was looking at her was giving her the creeps. Her girlfriends said she was too choosy and she would wound up alone one-day knitting baby booties for THEIR babies.

"Hey, beautiful," the man said leaning closer. "If you want me to, I can be this Christian...or anyone else for that matter," he said suggestively. "I'm great at role-playing, I've been told."

Ana thought the man was sickening. He knew nothing about her and yet it was clear that he was thinking with his dick. She got up to leave, but he stood and grabbed her elbow holding her back.

" A beautiful girl like you shouldn't be going out into the dark by herself."

She narrowed her gaze, staring him down. The man was barely an inch taller than her. And whatever he saw in her eyes away gave him pause. In the next moment, he released her elbow, and she walked away with her head held high.

Christian watched the whole scene unfold sitting at another bar-stool across from them and partially hidden from their view. It took all his willpower not to intervene at once when the dickhead moved to grab her elbow. It had been beautiful, however, watching the way she'd taken care of herself and put the bastard in his place. This Ana was not the little damsel in distress like he'd envisioned while sitting in her father's office back in Seattle. This amazing young woman was strong, much stronger than that.

He followed her out of the nightclub from a safe distance. Truth to be told, he was shocked by his immediate attachment to her considering he'd only seen her from afar and yet, her essence had captivated his heart. Nothing else mattered in this world except saving her. But in order to do that, he would have to know her well, know her better than she knew herself and he could ONLY do that by stalking her, by watching her from afar. It was a given; people only revealed their true selves when they thought nobody else was watching.

A/N:

I hope this chapter wasn't too long and boring! I have three more chapters pre-written, but I can try to shorten them if there's too much detail and you prefer shorter chapters like the first one.

Have a great weekend, thanks for reading and reviewing :)


	4. Chapter 4

**A/N:**

 **Thanks everyone.** Every single one of your comments helped me move forward and even though this chapter turned out just as lengthy as the others, I did end up leaving out a few unnecessary details. I've put a lot of work into drafting this story and I got a huge file with all the facts I gathered for this story for months prior to posting first chapter and the challenge has been what to leave out, lol.

* * *

 **Chapter four**

After leaving the bar, Ana cycled back home, and he followed her on another bike he'd picked up from a bike rack. He'd found that many locals used the bike system which was available in selected locations. At this point, six days after his arrival, he felt quite sure he knew his way around the island. So far, he'd avoided using a rental car which would make his comings and goings traceable.

As usual, he hid in the nearest bushes and watched Ana go into her house. He was about to retire back to his hotel for the night when he saw Ana exit her house at around 8:00 P.M and visit her next-door neighbor, three doors to her left. Through observation, he had learned that home was occupied primarily by an older woman, much older than Gladys and her grandson. All week long he'd seen signs of suspicious activity-many different people coming and going even late at night- but this was the first time he'd seen Ana visit the neighbor's house.

The thing that Christian disliked the most about the island was the limitations on internet access which did not allow him to do a background check on the neighbors. However, a couple of days ago he'd been able to purchase an internet card and go into an internet center and do a search on Jose Rodriguez, the older woman's grandson who worked nearby as an auto mechanic in a small auto-shop. This Jose had the same name as the airport taxi driver but was definitely not the same person. Through the government-sponsored internet, Christian had learned that JOSE was a Political ACTIVIST who had been in prison for writing political propaganda against the government. Jose was the leader of a small group of revolucionarios. The national revolutionary police had discovered three bombs that had been set up in trash bins in the last month. The perpetrators had been called terrorists, traitors, delinquents, the criminal element. From what he read, Christian concluded that the targets had been inconsequential, more noise than effect.

…..

Inside Jose's house.

"I got you a little present," one of Jose's buddies said handing him a fancy department store bag.

Ana smiled, but her smile soon turned into shock as Jose unfolded a pair of pants and a knit shirt to reveal a small black pistol.

"Beautiful!" Jose slapped the other guy on the back. "Beautiful." He then turned around facing the dresser and pointed the gun at himself in the dresser mirror. "What a beautiful little bitch she is. You barely have to touch her, and she goes off."

"Jose! What kind of a gun is that?" Ana asked, stepping back, her heart beating fast. This was the first time she'd seen a weapon of that magnitude.

"It's a pistol. A Makarov. The magazine holds eight rounds. Small, light, easily concealed, reliable as your grandmother's cooking." Jose now held the pistol on the flat of his arm, showing it off. "Sexy, don't you think?" He said to Ana bringing it closer for her inspection. "You want to kiss it?"

The entire time, Christian had been watching through a window. The sight of the gun so close to Anastasia had surprised him, making him step into a string of tin cans that had been carefully lined up between the bushes which nearly made him trip.

…...

" _Quien esta alli?_ (who is there?)" Jose barked at the clanking sound coming from the tin cans, pointing the pistol at the window while his three buddies ran outside.

While Christian's first instinct had been hide in the thick vegetation surrounding him, he knew it was already too late when he saw the men approaching. "Anastasia, _soy yo_ , Christian Grey!" He shouted with his hands up in the air.

Ana gasped. "Jose put the gun down! I know him! He's the private detective my father sent from the United States!" Ana pleaded.

"What? Are you sure?"

"YES! Of course, I'm sure," She said rolling her eyes. "That's the name! That's the guy my father talked to me about."

In the next moment, Ana breathed a sigh of relief as Christian was brought inside the house. The first thing that struck her about him was how incredibly handsome he was.

Jose slowly put his gun down. "You got some form of ID?" Jose asked in Spanish, looking at Christian suspiciously.

Christian slowly reached toward his back pocket to retrieve his wallet, carefully earning Jose's trust with each one of his precise movements. He produced both his license and his concealed weapon as a gesture of good faith. He first placed the gun on the coffee table and then showed Jose his wallet before putting it back in his pocket.

"Christian Grey, huh?" Jose mumbled after comparing the picture on the driver's license to the person standing in front of him. "What the heck were you doing hiding in the bushes?"

Ana looked at Christian incredulously. So this was the man that had been stalking her, watching her every move for the last six days. No wonder, she'd had the distinct feeling of being watched more than once. "Why?" she asked him, her eyes conveying how pissed she was at him. "Why didn't you just meet with me as soon as you landed?"

"Look, I know this is not what you were expecting, but I had my reasons," Christian said in Spanish for everyone's benefit. "I had to gather some intel. Trust me, it was for the best."

"Nice cozy reunion," Jose said sarcastically, looking over at his buddies, trying to figure out what to do with Christian now. "So what's your plan, gringo?"

Christian arched a brow at the name. "I was hired to take Anastasia out of the country. I wasn't hired to get involved in your political warfare." He replied making steady eye contact with the other three men in the room. "You can go on and don't mind me."

Jose let out a laugh. "Wrong. You won't be able to get her out without some kind of political connection. It's inevitable, you must take sides."

Christian's gaze shifted to Anastasia. Jose had a point, but he wasn't about to admit to that. "I'm with Anastasia. Whatever cause she chooses to support is my cause too. Again, my job is not to get involved in your country's political affairs. My job is to return her safe and sound to her father."

In the next moment, it became clear that Jose had decided that it was actually safer to keep Christian around than out of sight. Perhaps, he could convert him over to THEIR cause. His gaze fell on Christian's pistol still sitting on the coffee table and then his eyes met Christian's, nodding. And then, while maintaining eye contact with Jose, Christian retrieved the pistol and slid it back in its holster.

Jose's grandmother emerged from her bedroom and offered everyone supper. She had leftovers from lunch which she could warm up in a moment's notice. The men were happy to accept the invitation, and so did Ana. Christian sat with them at their kitchen table as they ate, nursing a soda. Jose's mother discreetly disappeared to her bedroom once she made sure everyone had something to eat and drink.

"Are you blowing up any trash cans tonight?" Christian asked the group, revealing that he had been following their movements.

Nico, Jose's comrade, didn't like the slight ridicule in Christian's tone. "Our fireworks were just a little distraction. Nobody gets hurt. We don't bomb people, only things."

"Why are you doing this? What's your goal?"

"We want to eliminate General Garcia and make the whole political structure collapse."

"Really?" Christian questioned skeptically. "Just by taking one general out of the picture?"

"He's that powerful plus he's an easy target. Once he's down, it will create fear and fear is one the strongest motivators." Jose said simply.

"You don't have automated weapons, do you?" Christian questioned Jose. "All you got is a goddamned pistol."

"It's a challenge." Jose acknowledged with a shrug. "But all we have to do is get close enough to the general and put the barrel against his head."

"That my friend is suicide," Christian warned with a stern expression. He looked over at Ana, hoping he'd managed to effectively communicate the seriousness of the situation.

…...

At his first opportunity to get close to Ana, Christian pulls out a small jewelry box from his jeans pocket. "This is for you, it's from your father."

"Oh, my! Christian! These are so expensive!" She said to him in English, having decided to speak to him in Spanish when they were in a group.

Christian shrugged. This was, in fact, one of the most modest gifts from the lot that Raymond Steele had sent for his daughter. The hair clip had the shape of a butterfly and he guessed it's worth was probably about two hundred and fifty dollars.

Ana stared stunned at the open box for a very long time. She'd never seen anything so beautiful in her entire life. "What is it?" She murmured softly.

"It's a hair barrette." He cocked his head. "May I?"

Ana nodded, and Christian took the hair accessory out of its box and showed her the clasp. Holding her breath, she watched him draw nearer until their fingers touched as he handed her the barrette. It had all happened in gentle motion like a butterfly's wings.

"What's that?" Jose asked ruining the magic of the moment.

Ana stepped back and showed Jose the hair accessory. Christian realized at once that the murderous look Jose was giving him was nothing but good old fashioned jealousy.

"It's from my father," Ana said breathlessly. She'd unfastened the clasp carefully, a little afraid to break it. She pulled her hair into a ponytail and fastened the barrette onto her hair, giving her a girlish slightly punk look.

"Looks rather fancy," Jose muttered under his breath with obvious disapproval.

Christian stared at Jose, trying to decide how much of an obstacle the man would be in operation Rescue Ana Steele. Obviously, the man was carrying a torch for Ana, a torch she didn't seem to reciprocate (based on her body language). While he pondered on this, he noted that one Jose's comrades had pulled a six pack of beer out of the fridge, stating that this was a special occasion.

"Care to join us?" Nico said to Christian.

"No, thanks," Christian said. Drinking on the job would be a big mistake. "I gotta get back to the hotel."

"You got yourself a sweetheart waiting for you, cowboy?" Jose said and the other men snickered. "If not I can take you to one, I know just the place..."

"I hate it when you all get like this," Ana hissed. "See you tomorrow," she said before turning on her heel and exiting out the door.

"They say the true measure of a man is how well he can hold his liquor," Jose challenged him.

Christian refused to take the bait. " _Adios_ ," he murmured nonchalantly before walking out the front door. He had to hurry if he were to catch Ana before she made it back to her house. It was after 10:00 pm and Gladys was usually in bed by 9:30. He wouldn't want to ring the bell at this hour and disturb her sleep.

"Wait, Cinderella!" Christian called just as Ana scurried inside her house but before she shut the door.

Ana froze, her hand glued to the doorknob. "What did you just called me?" She looked at him confused. The half-opened door acting like a barrier between them.

"I called you Cinderella," Christian said with an indulgent tiny-dimpled smile. "You left in such a hurry I was afraid you would lose your glass slipper." He added when all he wanted was to talk some sense into her. What the heck was she doing getting involved in a plot to take down a high ranking government official?

"Oh, yes. And so, who are you then? My fairy godmother ready to grant me my three wishes?"

"I think you got your fairy tales mixed up...I believe that's Aladdin and the magic lamp."

"My bad," she said with a pout. "I guess I didn't grow up believing in fairy tales."

Suddenly, he couldn't hold his tongue any longer. "What the heck are you doing with Jose and his band of thieves?"

"Jose is my childhood friend, that's all. But surely you knew that, didn't my father mention Jose? We've known each other since birth. My grandmother and his mother are friends."

"Does that mean you have to follow his little group?" Christian hissed. He was annoyed at Ana for her foolishness. It occurred to him that perhaps Ana was involved in Jose's activities because she was in love with him. The idea burned through his veins like fire and he suddenly wanted to lash out at her. It alarmed him thoroughly, as there was no reason for this feeling-whatever it was-he only known her five minutes. "Are you in love with this Jose?" He angrily demanded, running a hand through his hair.

Ana let out a gasp of surprise. She naturally let go of the door, and it opened wider. "In love?"

Christian stepped closer, crossing the threshold. They were so close now that their faces nearly touched. Ana held her breath at the sudden invasion of her personal space without coming anywhere close to touching her. Yes, touching her. Oh, how she wished he would, she suddenly realized.

"No.." she murmured at last, taking two steps back. "He...Jose...he's just a friend, I told you." They stood staring at each other for a long time until at last, she murmured a hasty goodbye and shut the door behind her, leaving him staring at the door, wondering what that was all about.

…...

The next day

At the crack of dawn, Ana was getting ready to leave for the convent. Mami was still in bed but, as was her routine every morning, Ana made coffee and brought it to her grandmother in bed.

"Gracias, _mija_ ," Gladys murmured. She took a deep sip and sighed. In the next moment, she let out a tiny squeal. " _Ay, Mija, mira quien esta alli,_ (honey, look who's out there)."

Ana followed her grandmother's gaze out the window and was surprised to see Christian standing by a tree. As soon as he knew she had spotted him, he tipped his baseball cap. She thought about all the times he'd been watching her probably from that same spot, hiding in plain sight, except that now he was no longer hiding from her.

" _Que tengas un buen dia_ , ( Hope you have a great day)," she heard her grandmother say while giving her a goodbye kiss on the cheek.

" _Tu tambien_ , mami. (you have a good day too)."

As soon as she stepped out the door she realized that Jose had beat her to it; he was already out there by the tree chatting with Christian.

" _Buenos dias_ , Anastasia," Christian said in his best Spanish, appraising her with an approving smile on his lips. She was wearing a short tank top and a pair of faded jeans. She truly had an amazing body-except for being somewhat underweight- and those jeans fitted her curves flawlessly like a well-made glove.

" _Buenos dias,_ " She murmured holding his gaze.

"We were talking about a bird called the mock-bird and how it resembles some of us humans," Jose started. Just like the mockingbird, we sometimes have no originality and merely imitate other humans. Sometimes we have no natural talent of our own besides engaging in the art of imitation."

"Now Christian, is stalking people one of your natural talents or did you have special training in college first?" Ana also asked in Spanish for Jose's benefit.

"Now there, you got me all wrong, _senorita_ ," Christian said with a smirk. He then turned to Jose. "Is she always like this?"

"Snippy?" Jose asked him with a chuckle, revealing he certainly was in a good mood this morning. " Yeah, pretty much."

"Oh, my God! Jose!" Ana exclaimed, appalled. "Whose side are you on?" She then glared at Christian. "And you...are you sure you're the man my father hired on my behalf or did you kidnap him and stuffed him in a closet?" She first said it in rapid-fire Spanish and then repeated the last two sentences in English to make sure Christian understood.

Christian rolled his eyes. This was not what he was expecting, he was truly finding this woman more than just a little exasperating, which undoubtedly was making his job a heck of a lot more difficult.

In the next moment, Ana announced she didn't have time for any of this, they were expecting her at the convent. " _Adios_ , Jose."

"Look," Christian said trying as hard as he could to sound reasonable as she started walking away from him. "I think you and I started off on the wrong foot." He told her in English.

"Do you think?" she retorted with a trace of sarcasm. "Do you think maybe stalking me for six days was not the best idea?"

"I was not stalking you, I was tracking you. There's a difference, sweetheart."

"Of course," Ana rolled her eyes, and Christian's eyes darkened in response. "How silly of me. I'm so happy you were TRACKING me," she said as they both continued walking side by side toward the convent. At once, she noticed her legs felt a little shaky. She felt strange. Maybe she should've had some coffee before she left the house, but she was trying to conserve. Last time, she had been lucky to have been able to bring a pound of coffee home from the convent, but she knew the nuns had a limited supply.

Christian reached out to steady her. "Whoa, I've been told I make girls weak in the knees," he said with a smile.

"Don't flatter yourself, Christian Grey," She yanked her hand away and wiped the imaginary dust off her tank top. She flattened her hair with her hand which actually made it worse since she felt like a sweaty mess. She focused on trying not to fall over.

"Are you okay? Do you need to sit down? You look pale."

"I'm fine."

"Let's get something to eat at a nice restaurant."

"No, thank you."

"You seriously don't look good."

"Ha!" She rolled her eyes again. "What every girl wants to hear."

Silence spread between them; they both knew they were at a stalemate. His gaze explored her face, and she decided to do the same.

"I think it's a little early in our relationship to start making threats," he said smugly.

Ana decided to ignore the word "relationship." They'd just met; obviously, they were not in a relationship of any kind.

"Look, you and I have a common interest, don't we?"

"I can't go to any restaurant with you. I have to fulfill my responsibilities, she said breaking the stare. "I have a job, I have responsibilities, Mother Superior is expecting me."

…..

Christian knew her routine quite well. She normally went inside the convent first and then went to take her place at the food line. So he waited for her outside the convent-sitting on a nearby bench with a paperback novel- for about half an hour until she finally reappeared. At once, he noticed this time she didn't have the baby with her, and he was more than just a little glad.

"So you're gonna follow me everywhere now?" She said walking past him. At once he followed closely behind.

"You would have had me at 'hello.'" He replied, but she decided to ignore that.

They had almost reached the food line when he finally caught up with her and said. "Anastasia, can you stop acting so snippy? I can get you the milk you need at the grocery store..." He told her reaching for her arm to get her to stop. She stopped but pulled her arm away and rolled her eyes at him. "Are you gonna tell me you'd rather suffer in the heat of the sun?"

She stood there for the longest time staring at him, tapping her foot nervously, contemplating her next move. It took her a full minute, but her demeanor started to soften, hanging on to her dignity and pride by a slender thread.

"Okay, so is that a yes?" He clicked his tongue impatiently. "I guess I'll take that as your answer. Follow me, you foolish woman," he said, and her pride blistered as she obeyed.

Together they arrived at a quiet little restaurant known as Cafeteria La Rampa. It was American style diner that appealed to tourists. "Let's eat first and then we'll go get milk for the convent at the bodega. I don't know about you, but I'm starving," he went on as they ventured inside.

They sat down at a 60's style booth across from one another, and he took off his baseball cap. His hair was a little damp, she noticed. The wet look looked good on him. A chatty waitress greeted them in English, and they had a short exchange before she decided to give them a few more minutes to look at the menu. Ana welcomed the distraction; the man before her possessed an intensity she found disconcerting.

"I highly recommend the pancake-omelet meal," Christian said pointing at her menu. This place reminded him so much of Denny's back home, it was ridiculous. Ana simply stared back at him, and it occurred to him she'd never been at a Denny's, she'd never been in America. It was easy to forget that since her English was flawless. And yet, she was still foreign in many small ways. It truly fascinated him. "So...What's going on with you? Cat got your tongue?"

This was her first time eating at this restaurant as it was a dollars-only-establishment reserved for tourists and she was certain Christian already knew this. Letting her eyes wander over his face, Ana decided that in her entire life, she'd never met any man nearly as attractive as Christian and who exhibited so much sex-appeal.

"I don't know what to order," she admitted in a thin voice, overwhelmed by all the choices.

"Don't you worry your pretty little head, sweetheart. I'm here to help you make good choices."

"You're being smug again," Ana said.

"I am?"

"I hate it when you're smug."

"You hate it when I'm right. You don't exactly have the best track record for making good choices in life, do you?"

The waitress was coming over to check on them and then turned on her heel, but Christian called her back. "Two number four's please," he stated, and the waitress nodded in acknowledgment before disappearing into the kitchen.

Ana glared at him. How dare he order for her? "Wh-what?"

"Two examples come to mind. First, you're running around with a political activist like Jose...and secondly, risking your life by attempting to leave the island on a flimsy tugboat."

She straightened up her torso, meeting his gaze. He was laughing at her, wasn't he? What did he really know about her life and what she had to go through? "Leave me alone."

"That may be what you want, but it's not what you need."

"It is what I want!" She yelled glaring at him defiantly. Christian met her gaze. Those bewitching eyes of her surely made his pulse pound all the harder.

The other customers were staring at them, but she was beyond caring. In the next moment, she scanned the table for her belongings, but there was nothing. Her coin purse was safely tucked in her jean pocket.

"Are you planning a dramatic exit?" He noted, his lips twitching in a perfectly infuriating way, she thought.

"Now that you mention it, I don't think I'll give you the satisfaction!"

"So you're staying here then?" His lips had stopped twitching and had formed a full-blown, smug smile.

She ended up staying, and the waitress brought their meals in record time. They ate in a silence so thick he felt like screaming. He had the overwhelming desire to shake the woman until she agreed to let him do the job he came here for: return her safe and sound to her long-lost daddy in Seattle. Clearly, she was in an impossible situation, her days in Havana were numbered and yet, she'd never admit to needing anything, least of all his help. She was obviously the most stubborn, infuriating woman he'd ever met, and she obviously didn't know what was good for her.

He gazed over at her and discovered that her mouth had settled into a stern line. Perversely, he wanted to kiss her until her mouth curved into a lazy, sensual, satisfied smile. Yet, he had the feeling that if he tried, she would slap him hard across the face.

 ** **A/N**** : What did you think of the dynamic between Ana and Christian? What do you see happening next between them?

Guest reviewers, did any of you notice the announcement in the story description a few days ago saying chapter four would be posted soon? Sorry for the delay, I really meant to post it within a day or so after the announcement but life has been crazy busy. Still, I don't know, it might have been helpful for some to know the chapter was coming. Whenever I will keep them coming.

Until next time, have a great week, XO


	5. Chapter 5

**A/N:** I'm baaack! I didn't mean to be gone this long, but my muse wasn't cooperating until now. Anyway, I'm excited to be back. This chapter starts with a flashforward in time. I hope you enjoy!

IMPORTANT:

 **I changed the story title. Old title: You're my Talisman**

I also deleted the poll I did back in August otherwise known as chapter 4. So this NEW chapter is the real chapter five.

* * *

Chapter five

Seattle- Tacoma International Airport, August 2018

One and half weeks later

At last, her feet were touching American soil in living, safe and sound condition. Every soldier must have had the same feeling of exhilaration upon returning to their homeland, she mused. After all, America was the land of the free and the home of the brave. Except she was not a soldier and this was truly her first time touching American soil.

As they exited the aircraft, Ana glanced over at Christian as he gently placed his hand on the small of her back. Together they walked through the tunnel and emerged facing the crowd gathered at the gate to be immediately escorted through customs.

"My reluctant bride," Christian murmured in her ear with a wicked grin as they walked as if her predicament was a source of amusement for him.

The events of the last few days had happened too fast; she still couldn't believe they were legally married.

"My temporary husband," she whispered back. They were standing in a secluded corridor waiting for their turn behind another couple. She was letting him know in no uncertain terms that she was not under the illusion that theirs was a girl meets boy love story with its prescribed happily ever after. She didn't even want that anyway. Not with this man or any man. In the story of her life, her happily ever after consisted of being- at last- reunited with her father.

"We got to be careful here. These Bonzos do have the authority to revoke marriage-based petitions they consider fraudulent."

Ana refused to take the bait. "I still fail to see how any of this is relevant. We're no longer in Cuba, and I have dual citizenship." She said, pulling her out her U.S passport, in case he'd forgotten she had that.

"I'm afraid is not that simple," he smiled. "Now that the paperwork on your behalf has been filed as a marriage to a U.S Citizen petition, they're going to look at that first, they're going to be looking for discrepancies... but we got to make sure there's no doubt in their minds that ours is a marriage based on love."

Ana took a deep breath. She was starting to feel nervous. In her mind's eye, she pictured herself being questioned in a separate room about the specifics of their relationship and their wedding ceremony. She tried to smile and pretend she wasn't the least bit worried, but she was failing miserably.

Sensing her discomfort, Christian immediately took her hand and whispered in her ear, "Don't worry, love. Just remember to stick to the story we practiced. If they ask you a question, you don't know the answer to you can always play the English- is- my- second- language card."

He squeezed her hand in reassurance, and her heart jumped. She squeezed back and much to her chagrin, she found herself wishing he'd never let go.

Next thing they knew it was their turn. Two INS officers, one short and one tall were escorting them to an open view cubicle.

Christian was right; they barely glanced at her American passport; instead, they fixated on her marriage visa.

"Anastasia Steele Grey," the tall officer looked at her through the rim of his glasses, "It says here you never completed the CR1 Spousal visa interview?"

Ana shook her head no.

"I have a letter by Heather Steinberg stating there was no time to complete the interview due to the Sonic attack at the embassy," Christian promptly stated, handing the letter to the officer.

The tall officer glanced at the letter and then looked up at Christian. "I see. We will need to complete the interview here then."

Ana and Christian exchanged a look of surprise. They were sitting close to one another, holding hands, shoulders touching.

"Right now? Heather assured us we could schedule the interview at our convenience."

"This will not take long, sir. I will be asking your wife a few questions to confirm the marriage is legit." He smiled showcasing his perfectly white teeth. It's a mere formality."

Christian shifted in his seat. They shouldn't have to go through this. Anastasia was an American citizen, she didn't have to prove anything to gain entry into the country.

"My wife has a U.S. Passport."

"Yes, but the passport was issued under her maiden name."

"I don't see how that makes much of a difference. We have all the required papers, including our marriage certificate." Christian said with annoyance.

Christian scowled. No doubt Raymond Steele would be very displeased to hear how his daughter was being treated right now. "This is absolutely ridiculous! You know who you're talking to?" He glanced over at Anastasia. "This is Raymond Steele's daughter, and when he finds out what the hold-up is all about-he let the sentence hang.

"Except you don't have a petition for a name change filed yet, do you?"

The short officer stepped forward. "This way, Mrs. Grey," he said to Anastasia, motioning across to another open cubicle.

Ana gave Christian a look of resignation and rose to follow the short officer without question. Christian was too astonished to react. This woman-the woman he'd married was not the same feisty, daring Anastasia he'd met in Cuba. She was clearly out of her element here.

"Ana," he called out even as she stepped out of the room. "Don't forget, I'm your talisman," he said raising his hand and wiggled his left ring finger showcasing his gold wedding band.

Ana cast him a shy smile before disappearing behind the officer. She dutifully took a seat across from the short officer's desk. Upon closer inspection, she decided he looked a lot like Danny Devito. She half-expected Arnold Schwarzenegger to come crawling out of the woodwork.

"Mind if I videotape this?" The man cleared his throat, turned on the recorder, and spoke rapidly without waiting for her reply. "Please state your name for the record."

"Anastasia Steele Grey."

How long have you been corresponding with your spouse," Danny Devito asked after reviewing something that looked like an instruction manual. He threw his head back and laughed. "Sorry. I was reading from the mail-order bride protocol...and I suppose this doesn't apply to you. You and your husband met in Cuba in person, correct?" He nodded in a leading manner.

Ana played with her gold wedding band and nodded back as if she understood. But in truth, she was so nervous that her mind went blank all of a sudden. Luckily, Danny Devito was none the wiser.

"And so, how long have you and Mr. Christian Grey known each other?" The man asked this time without looking at the handbook.

"Three weeks," Christian answered from the doorway. "But they were the best weeks of my life," he smiled charmingly, his gaze shifting from the officer to Ana. "It was love at first sight."


	6. Chapter 6

**A/N:** Last chapter ended with them being married. In this chapter we flash back to see how it happened. Everything that happens in this chapter is in the past.

* * *

chapter six

U.S embassy, Havana, Cuba

Last week

"Good morning, Mr. Grey," Heather Steinberg, the secretary to the ambassador, smiled knowingly. The blonde woman was a bit of a flirt in spite of her middle-aged roundness. "Long time no see."

"Good morning, Heather. Hope I'm not interrupting," Christian smiled charmingly, setting down a cup of coffee and a box of pastries on her desk. He appreciated the woman's sense of humor. Ever since his arrival on the island, he'd visited the embassy nearly every day in order to coordinate a sound plan to get Anastasia out of the country safely.

"A man bearing coffee and cake is always welcome," she smiled back, bringing the coffee to her lips and enjoying its delicious aroma. She motioned for him to sit down and he dropped in the empty chair across from her.

"They're actually donuts."

"Oh, okay." She smiled sheepishly digging into the box. She grabbed a napkin and a chocolate donut. "Please, take one. They can't all be for me," she said sliding the box toward him.

Christian helped himself to a glazed donut. He wasn't much into sweets, but it was all in the name of diplomacy. Heather had just finished her donut and was reaching for her coffee when he spoke again.

"I hope you got some good news for me today."

"I do," she said with a slow flirty smile, "I think you will be VERY pleased." She stood up and waited for Christian's nod of approval. "I'll be right back."

She returned a few minutes later with a big box. Christian leaned forward and rummaged through the contents. Inside were Ana's family photographs and the letters Raymond Steele had written to both Ana and Carla. There were also a few books and an old Windows XP computer.

"Where is the tower?" He asked, and she shrugged in response. "So basically this is just a monitor and a keyboard. It's useless without the tower. It won't even work as a word processor."

"Count your blessings, Mr. Grey," she chirped, producing Ana's U.S passport and sliding it across the desk toward him. "This here is the most important asset of all."

Christian had to agree. His hands automatically reached for the passport, and his fingers traced the gold raised lettering. As a U.S citizen, Ana was entitled to many rights and protections. He could already imagine the smile on Ana's face when he returned everything that had been confiscated by the Cuban authorities last time she'd tried to leave the country.

"Perfect. When does our charter flight leave?"

Heather shifted uncomfortably in her seat. "Mr. Grey, charter flights are still subject to restrictions. The bottom line is that Anastasia Steele was born in Cuba and..."

Christian already knew what she was going to say. "And Cuba doesn't recognize dual citizenship," he interjected.

"Exactly. So I don't see a way for her to leave the country...unless," she trailed off as one of her co-workers placed a telegram on her desk.

"What is it?" Christian asked after a few moments, anxious for her to finish her sentence.

"It's an order from Washington to evacuate. The state department has formally issued a health alert."

"What's going on?"

"Our diplomats are complaining of intense fatigue, crushing headaches, and intense sounds... and Washington is ordering the departure of non-emergency personnel," Heather confided.

"When?" Christian asked. He couldn't fucking believe this. He had to think fast. "When are you all leaving?

"We have until the end of the week."

Christian shook his head in disbelief. "Is this some type of reverse quarantine?"

Heather smiled indulgently. "This a very real health concern. We believe we're under a sonic attack by the Cuban government. We're not taking any chances with the health of our diplomats."

"And you have ALL experienced these symptoms? Including yourself?"

"Yes, I have. Maybe not as bad as my colleagues but definitely the constant ringing in my must be some sophisticated technology we don't understand. All we know for sure is that the symptoms consistent with mild brain injury or concussion." Heather mused. "Doctors back in the states who've examined our diplomats confirmed that brain matter in these patients has actually changed."

"And since when has Cuba been capable of such sophisticated technology?" Christian found this piece of information laughable. He wished he had a way to obtain more information through an independent news source. Whatever news he could get at the internet cafes was only one side of the equation, the version approved by the Cuban government.

Heather was stumped. "Hmm...it's not really as far fetched as it seems given Cuba's continued ties to the Russians. Whoever is creating these attacks is against the normalization of relations between Cuba and the United States."

"Next thing you'll be telling me that a rogue Cuban political activist is behind all this."

"At this point, we're not ruling out anything. Our diplomats are leaving but make no mistake, there will be an investigation, and those responsible will be punished."

Christian doubted that political activists like those in Jose's group would have the technological weapons necessary to carry out a sonic attack. Although that did not make Jose's group less dangerous. Once again, it was imperative for him to get Ana away from Jose pronto.

"So you really believe this? You really believe that certain frequency sounds can change brain matter?"

"Absolutely."

"I've been coming here every day and have never experienced any symptoms. **"**

Heather gave his statement some serious thought. "I think that long-term exposure is the key here. You, Mr. Grey, have not been in this building long enough to experience the effects of electromagnetic waves."

"It sounds like I'll need to camp here for a few days then," he joked with a straight face.

"You're certainly are welcome to. This is your home away from home," she smiled pleasantly. "Now, seriously, Mr. Grey, if at any point you or Anastasia are in need of a hiding place, you can come in day or night." She said reaching for a pen and sticky note pad. "Here is the code to our building. Just punch in the numbers on the intercom and mention my name to the guards," she concluded shuffling papers on her desk which he interpreted as a dismissal.

He stood up. "Very well then. I'll be back tomorrow. By then I would hope you'll have our names added to the charter flight your diplomats are taking back to the States."

And with that, Christian grabbed the box and headed out of the building. He walked to the end of the street and hailed a yellow Panataxi.

A quarter of an hour later, he was arriving at Ana's duplex. Gladys welcomed him with open arms. She eyed the box with a big smile. "Thank you, _Mijo_ ," she murmured over and over again, pulling Christian into a bear hug. "You have no idea how much this means to me."

* * *

 **Four days later**

The next few days passed by in a blur. Christian was still waiting to hear from Heather regarding his request.

Every day he followed the same routine. At the crack of dawn, he waited for Ana to leave her house and accompanied her to the convent. From there he went to the nearest bodega and used his tourist coupon book to get milk for the children. Mother Superior was usually quite happy upon his return and offered him a home cooked meal and a fresh cup of coffee.

He liked being able to stay at the convent for a good portion of the day. He had to admit, he liked observing Ana while she went about her daily chores. Although he had the distinct impression, Ana was not all that pleased to catch him watching her. On more than one occasion, he tried helping out to alleviate her workload, but Mother Superior would hear none of it. She would not allow him to lift a finger as he was a guest in their place of residence.

Ever since the day he'd returned the passport and their other possessions, Ana had been nicer toward him, but she was soon back to being snippy with him when she realized he wouldn't allow her to have further contact with Jose.

"I hope you're still not mad at me. Everything I do is for your own good, Ana," he murmured slipping beside her at the table while she was feeding baby her was a messy enterprise. Food usually landed on the floor and on her skin and hair, but the tiny thirteen-month-old was determined to feed herself resisting Ana's guidance.

Ana took a deep breath and let it out in a loud huff. Even though she understood his reasons for forbidding her to hang out with Jose and his gang, she resented the control and oversight. She bit her lip to keep herself from blurting out words she might later regret.

Christian understood her fiercely independent spirit. However, he couldn't stand it when she bit her lip, it stirred in him unrelenting feelings of lust. And the last thing he needed was for such feelings to interfere with his mission.

"Stop that!"

"Stop what?'

"Stop biting your lip," he barked in a tone louder than he intended. A group of nuns sharing a meal at the next table sharply turned their heads in their direction. Even the baby was momentarily startled.

She turned the color of strawberry jam. "What business is that of yours what I do with MY lips?"

"None. But I'm only human, and I'm a male so stop it," he murmured low enough for her ears to hear.

"Everyone is looking at us," she whined. Not that she cared all that much about what other people thought of her, but she was testing to see how much he cared.

"Just turn and smile. You will draw less attention," he said smiling at the nuns. They smiled back at him and nodded their heads as though they knew exactly what was going on between Ana and him.

For once Ana followed suit but later on their walk back to her grandmother's house, she blurted out the grudge she'd been nursing all day.

"You're enjoying this a lot, aren't you? This keeping me under your thumb."

He clicked his tongue. "I'm sensing a lot of hostility coming from you."

"I'm not leaving Havana until I say good-bye to the people I care about...the nuns, Mami, Liliana...and Jose."

They were about to round the corner and head for that final stretch of their journey when he stopped dead on his tracks. He grabbed her arm and whirled her around to face him, and she met his gaze defiantly.

"You need to cross Jose off that list," he demanded harshly. "He's up to no good. Mark my words, it's not going to end well for him."

"Jose is my best friend."

Hearing her say that made him angry and insanely jealous.

"What if right now I snapped you against my chest? What if I gave you a kiss or two, would you be able to resist me, _mamacita_? **"**

Ana stared into his gray eyes dumbstruck, she wasn't expecting such a strong reaction from him. The way he was looking at her right now excited her and terrified her at the same time.

"When are you gonna get it through your head this is not a game?This is not a chapter from one of your cheesy adventure novels...this is real life. There's a lot at stake here, _chica_. You need to look at the big picture instead of engaging in petty arguments with me. You stay here in Havana, you hook up with the next guy that asks you, and you wind up barefoot and pregnant once a year...or you come with me to America, and it's life, liberty and the pursuit of happiness...so which one are you gonna choose?"

"Let me go."

"Not until we're clear. You don't see Jose again period. It's either my way or the highway. Tell me you understand."

"I understand," she mumbled reluctantly.

Christian had just let go of her when they noticed a couple walking by very slowly, gawking at them. _"Buenas tardes."_

" _Buenas tardes,"_ Christian replied, mimicking the way they tipped their heads in greeting while Ana simply nodded.

They were about to cross the street when, out of the corner of his eye, Christian caught sight of a policeman apprehending a subject and throwing him against his patrol car. Even from afar, Christian recognized the guy. "Hey, isn't that one of Jose's buddies?" Without waiting for a response, he swiftly grabbed her arm and managed to scramble down an alley without running or drawing attention to themselves. From there they headed in the opposite direction. Not far from there was the bike rack where Ana parked her old fashioned bike with a slanted crossbar.

"Where are we going?" She asked while unlocking the bike.

"The embassy," he answered as Ana hopped behind him on the bike and held on to him like a motorcycle rider. "Do you think he'll talk?"

"I don't know him well enough. He's new to the group. Either way, it's bad news for Jose."

"And for you too," Christian pointed out.

They rode three or four blocks before they deviated toward a tourist shop. They were too exposed and needed a disguise of some sort. There, Christian purchased a wide brim boater style hat for himself and a textured ruana (a blanket that you can wear) for Ana. The ruana was far from fashionable; it made her look far more mature than her eighteen years.

"You look like you just stepped out of the 1920s," she smirked. He didn't look bad at all in his short -sleeve button down shirt and black jeans, she thought. "Except you need a suit and tie to complete the look."

Christian wasted no time asking the owner where he could get a suit and tie. The man told them there was a men's retail store two blocks south.

"Perfect, cause that's the direction we're heading," Christian mumbled. "And you my dear, you look like a shepherd girl in the Andean mountains. All you need is a harp and a flock of sheep to complete the look."

Ana couldn't help but smile in amusement.

"Aw. Whaddya know, your first genuine smile since we met. I knew you had it in you."

In response, she bit her lip and blushed. Christian was about to rebuke her for that when the store owner cleared his throat and gave them the total in U.S dollars. Christian paid with a traveler's check, and then they were on their way.

At the men's shop, Ana waited outside the dressing room while he tried on a suit.

"How does it fit?"

"It fits fine. I'll take it."

"Hey, you're not coming out and modeling for me?" She smirked stifling a chuckle. "Don't be shy!"

At once he came out from the dressing room with a twinkle of amusement in his eyes. He looked so handsome in this dark double-breasted suit. So masculine and so desirable. It nearly took her breath away.

"Who's the lucky girl?" She teased with the tiniest of smiles, and he cocked his head in response. "You look like somebody's groom."

"The embassy is not that far from here." He murmured privately after he paid the salesman. "We can just ditch the bike and walk the rest of the way," he said thinking a man in a suit riding a bike would attract too much attention.

"That's an expensive bike."

"I don't think you're looking at the big picture, mamacita. You're not going to be needing that bike ever again."

An hour later they had made it past the guards and were inside the embassy camping for the night. One of the rooms had two full sized couches and a private bathroom. It seemed like it was used on occasion for overnight guests.

"I'm guessing this is where we'll sleep," Ana said.

"Any preferences on which couch?"

"Not really," she said distractedly. "Mami will worry. How can we get a message out to her?"

Christian shrugged. "We don't. Your _abuela_ knows you're with me. She trusts me to keep you safe."

"And you know this...how?"

"Gladys and I have had many conversations," Christian mumbled as he set down his backpack (the only luggage he'd brought to the country) and made himself comfortable on one of the couches, stretching out his legs. He was positively exhausted. "We talked about the possibility of having to smuggle you out of the country on a cargo ship," he said half-joking, half-serious. "She's prepared."

Ana plopped on the opposite couch. She was so exhausted that she fell asleep almost as soon as her head hit the pillow.

* * *

 **The next morning**

Ana woke up to a buzzing sound she couldn't quite place. The room had no natural light, but being an early riser, her eyes opened at 5:30 sharp. She sat up and swung her feet on the floor and stared at Christian as he slept. She wondered at which point he'd taken the suit off and changed into his usual casual attire. The man was infuriating, but she had to admit he had the looks of a movie star.

She tiptoed to the bathroom to freshen up. Unfortunately, she didn't have a change of clothes, so she had to wear the same top and skirt. Well, at least the skirt was long and flowy which made it comfortable to sleep in. She was thankful, however, to find an array of brand new toothbrushes and toothpaste. She washed her face with foam hand soap and looked in the mirror satisfied.

" _Buenos dias, muchacha_ ," Christian greeted her when she exited the bathroom. He was lying on the couch with his elbow tucked under his head, looking incredibly relaxed.

" _Buenos dias, Senor,_ " she answered with a small smile. "Can you hear that?"

"Hear what?"

"A buzzing sound...it's irritating."

Christian shook his head no. "Listen, there's this theory floating around about an attack on the embassy through electromagnetic radiation, a type of psychological warfare. They're calling it a sonic attack. But I wouldn't worry about it, if I were you. We won't be here long enough to be a problem. Washington is calling back all diplomats back home. We're leaving with them." He paused to grab his backpack. "Anyway, the diplomats should be arriving in the building soon." He went on moving toward the bathroom. "Don't worry muchacha, by now the guards should have told them we're here."

"Well, well, well, nice surprise Mr. Grey," Heather greeted them as he and Anastasia approached her desk a few minutes later. And you must be Miss Anastasia," she added studying Ana.

"Nice meeting you," Ana said politely extending out her hand. Heather shook her hand wordlessly.

"We saw someone from Jose's gang get arrested last night," Christian informed her. "I didn't want to take any chances."

"Good call there, cowboy. Mr. Jose Rodriguez and his band of insurgents have been arrested," she stated pointedly looking at Ana. "They're looking for you too for your association with Rodriguez."

Ana gasped, and Heather turned to look at her sharply. "I'm not a political activist. I have never participated in any of their activities."

"Doesn't matter. To them, you're guilty by association. Lucky for you, right now you're under our protection. That means they can't arrest you without proof of criminal activity. However, they can still stop you from leaving the country. The less they know about your whereabouts, the better."

"Heather...what is it that you were about to say the other day? You were telling me you didn't see how Ana could leave the country unless something...and then we were interrupted by the telegram from Washington."

The woman appeared suddenly reluctant to share. Christian immediately turned on the charm, and she acquiesced. Folding her hands across her desk, she took a deep breath before she spoke again. "Ah, yes. Listen, the other alternative I see is if Ms. Steele here were to get married to a U.S citizen. Under Cuban law, the wife automatically takes on the nationality of her husband."

Both Christian and Ana were stunned into silence. Ana avoided Christian's gaze.

"Think about it," Heather suggested, her gaze shifting between Christian and Ana. "But not too long. We don't have too much time. We're closing the embassy tomorrow evening." She paused, looking mostly at Christian with a pang of regret. "I can draw up the papers if you like. All we need is one witness, which could be me," she smiled, "for the marriage to be legal."

The phone rang, and Heather got busy which left Christian and Ana free to fend for themselves. Christian headed for the kitchenette and Ana followed him. The other diplomats ( the ones that were not ill and slumped over their desks) told them there were pre-made ham and cheese sandwiches in the fridge. They were both starved as they'd skipped dinner the night before. Christian helped himself to two sandwiches, and Ana ate three-quarters of a sandwich and then claimed she was full. They talked very little during breakfast, absorbed in their own thoughts.

"Like my grandma used to say, you eat like a bird," Christian observed.

It wasn't until hours later that Ana had a chance to approach Heather and ask her if there was any way she could get a change of clothes.

"Sure. We'll send a car to your house to collect a suitcase for you."

Ana exhaled gratefully. "Thank you." She swiftly turned around only to bump into Christian. This man was like her shadow!

They stared at each other, nose to nose, for a long time. Feelings passed between them, a whirlwind of feelings that were hard to name.

"You don't wear down easily, do you?" He murmured softly, and she smiled proud of the fact that she'd held his gaze without backing down.

"I think we should do it," He cocked his head, looking deeply into her eyes. "We should get married. What do you say?"

"Hmm..." she cleared her throat. This was happening too fast; she wished she had time to think. "I...I don't know."

"It would be a temporary marriage, of course, a marriage of convenience."

Ana wished she could ask Mami and Ray for their advice. "I need to call my dad."

"No!" Christian exclaimed firmly, startling her. "Leave it up to me. I'm the one who's going to inform your father. I will do it my way and in my own timing."

Ana glared at him, resenting being subjected to the whims of this insufferable control freak. She could barely recall the last time she'd experienced such total frustration in the hands of another human being. She was about to open her mouth in protest when she heard Heather calling them back to her desk in an urgent tone.

"We have a visitor this morning. It's officer Sanchez. I believe you're well acquainted with him," Heather said looking at Ana. "Quick, Johnson," she said to another colleague standing by, a stocky African-American man. "Can you take them to the back room and stay with them until the officer leaves?"

They walked past a few people impaired by debilitating headaches, dizziness and a host of other symptoms. They heard a woman getting sick in the bathroom.

"But-I don't see why we have to hide. I thought this was American territory," Ana protested even as she and Christian followed Johnson to the south side of the building. "And I'm not a political activist," she said to Johnson. "This is nothing but a witch hunt."

Christian shushed her. This woman was really something. He wished for once she did as she was told without questioning everything. It would certainly make his life a lot easier, he thought. Dammit! He was starting to sound like a broken record to his own ears.

"I suggest you hide in the attic," Johnson said opening a skinny door that looked like the natural access to the hot water heater tank but it behind it was a set of stairs that led to another door at the top.

Ana was the first one to climb the stairs. "You gotta be kidding me," she mumbled when she reached the top landing and peeked inside the door. The attic barely had any crawl space. It looked claustrophobic. "I don't think so."

Christian rolled his eyes in exasperation. "Just get in there," he commanded. He doubted Sanchez would venture past the lobby, but the attic had a small window through which he could watch what was happening down below. He could get a complete picture of each one of the diplomats when they thought no one was watching. If he was going to be spending any time around these people, he had to find out who they were down to the last detail.

At last, Ana crawled in on her hands and knees. The attic was more like a tunnel as there were only about twelve inches from the top of her head to the ceiling. That meant Christian had to crouch down even lower. Once she got close to the window, she stopped moving and rolled onto her back.

Christian sat Indian style and peeked out the small window, their only source of light. And even though he couldn't hear what they were saying, he could tell what was going on by analyzing gestures and body language.

"How are you feeling? Did the buzzing go away?" He asked while still keeping an eye to what was happening down below.

Ana shrugged. "I think so, for the most part. Hey, what if it's a virus instead of a sonic attack?"

"There's a doctor on staff. He's the one who reported symptoms consistent with brain damage, the equivalent of a concussion."

After Sanchez left, Christian turned and lay sideways, leaning on his elbow for support. For a few moments, all he did was quietly watch the rapid rise and fall of her chest.

The temptation was too great, and before he knew what he was doing, he straddled her. Then, he crawled up to reach the vent right above her and get some air flowing.

What are you doing?" She cried squirming beneath him. He hovered above her, calmly gazing into her troubled eyes.

"Shhh," he whispered. He was able to open the vent after the third try. Yet instead of easing off her, he held her arms tightly and hovered over her.

After gazing into each other's eyes for what seemed like an eternity, Ana began to mimic his hypnotic breathing pattern. Eventually, he released her arms and eased off his weight a little bit. By then, she hadn't even realized he had loosened his grip; she had gotten so comfortable and relaxed underneath him.

He had no plan. Seducing her would surely bring more complications. But it seemed like the logical part of his brain wasn't in control of his body. He ducked his head beneath her jaw and fastened his mouth right above the collarbone. He followed the upward sweep of her neck until he reached her ear. A soft moan escaped her and she wrapped her fingers around his biceps, her nails digging through the light material of his shirt. Their eyes met for a couple of beats until she felt the heat between them steal all her bones along with her common sense.

His expression turned serious and inexplicably determined. When at last he lowered his head, she tilted hers so that their lips nearly touched and then suddenly and with an agonized groan, his lips burned against hers, demanding that they part; his tongue urgent yet tentative, a thrilling combination. Instantly, her lips softened, and her tongue darted to meet his and let out a soft whimper. His bare hands reached under her top to touch her bare skin and molded her body to his. Her hips instantly inched forward into the cradle of his, driving him near mad with longing. He wanted to take her right there, pull up her skirt and slide inside of her. Judging from her breathing, he was willing to bet that her urgency and desire matched his.

The magnificence of the moment ended abruptly when she ripped her lips away mumbling, "No...no," just as his thumb brushed the underside of her bra.

He eased off her at once.

"I don't think any of that was in your job description," she stated as a way to put some distance between them. She was trying to process feelings she'd never felt before. Moreover, her panties were soaking wet, and she didn't know what to do about that.

He backed away and sat on his heels as tall as he could in the cramped space, and offered his hand to help her sit up but she refused his help. Her anger resurfaced in full force, and she had to put up a great deal of effort not to strike him for that kiss. Instead, she sat with her legs pulled her knees to her chest as far away from him as possible.

"You're still angry at me."

"Yes, I am." She didn't understand why this Adonis of a man provoked a host of strong reactions in her.

Christian shook his head. What the hell was wrong with this woman? One minute she was smoldering with desire and the next she was pushing him away. He let out a long exhale and reminded himself of his mission. He was going to get Anastasia Steele out of this goddamn country come hell or high water.

"Listen, we need to stay put and lay low. From this point forward, we need to stay together until we leave the country. And if I go out tonight for any reason, you need to stick with me."

"I'm not going with you anywhere." She pouted. Deep down she was scared. It looked like now this was really happening. She was leaving the country for good, leaving behind everyone she loved.

Christian gawked, an amusing smile creeping into his eyes. "And would our damsel in distress care to tell me why?"

"I don't like you, I don't trust you."

Look, I'm just trying to get you off this damned island...the least you could do is be a good little girl and cooperate. If you were desperate enough to throw yourself on a suicide mission in the high seas, I think you're capable of just about anything. Signing a piece of paper should be a piece of cake. So stop trying to make everything harder than it has to be."

"I don't like you," Ana reiterated more to convince her self that the conflicting emotions this man stirred in her meant nothing.

"Listen, I admit, I don't like you most days, but I DON'T hate you. And I'm here to protect you with my life if I have to."

"Oh, my. You do take your job seriously, don't you?" She sighed, her tone more antagonistic that she intended. She was feeling shaky, confused by her own reaction to the kiss and extremely tired. Her life was changing in unpredictable ways, and it scared the living lights out of her.

"A guy doles out a wicked kiss for FREE, and you treat him like this? Now, that's plain rude, Anastasia."

Ana blushed, relieving every single second of the kiss. What the heck was wrong with her? She barely knew the guy, and he already had her tied up in furious knots.

He was completely baffled by her. All the women before her had been quite accommodating and she was the only one to truly challenge him. But there were at a crossroad, so he decided to change tactics. So after they came down from the crawl space, he guided her to sit with him at a table at a small kitchenette and in the calmest way possible, he explained the new plan. After analyzing several courses of action, he'd determined that the safest way for them to leave Cuba together was for them to get married. This would allow them to leave the country along with the departing diplomats without further delay. It would be a temporary marriage, of course, just until they reached the United States.

"This...this marriage idea will never work!"

"And why not?"

"Because I hate you!" Ana said, cringing inwardly. She was raised to believe in the sanctity of marriage but she couldn't bring herself to say this aloud. Maybe because it wouldn't make much of a difference.

Christian pursed his lips. At this point, he'd run out of patience. "The feeling is mutual. Now, shut up. Be a good girl and sign the damn papers so we can get fucking married and so we can get on our married way out of this fucking island." He hated this place now. It was too darn humid. All he wanted was to complete his mission and go back home.

She blinked, trying her hardest to hold back the tears.

LATER

"Okay, I got everything squared away. Our notary will be here in a few minutes. All you have to do is sign. No one has to find out about it...you don't have to tell your grandmother or your friends. Think of it as a business transaction," Heather said to Ana.

Ana let out a long huff and turned to the insufferable man beside her. "So...is that why you brought me here? What would have happened if Jose's friend hadn't been arrested?... Maybe you never had a plan." She challenged him.

Christian stared at her impassively. "Why are you acting so antagonistic? Don't tell me you were expecting a traditional wedding ceremony," He scoffed.

God! This man was so infuriating! She thought, storming off toward the bathroom and slamming the door behind her. While she splashed water on her face, she thought about marrying Christian and the kiss that they shared. Had he known by her reaction that she was a virgin? The woman in the mirror stared back at her, and her mind flashed back to her last conversation with her grandmother.

 **...**

 **Flashback: yesterday morning 6:00 am**

This morning had started like any ordinary morning with Ana making coffee before her grandmother came into the kitchen. While taking her first sip, a random thought struck her with unbelievable force. _Could other people tell she was a virgin?_

Would Mami be able to recognize the look on her face the minute she had sex? The thought hit her out of nowhere. Did hooking up fundamentally change you inside out? Would she come downstairs the morning after **IT** happened and Mami instantly know just by looking at her face?

The thought embarrassed her. What if Mami ever asked her about it? _Could you pass me the salt and who the hell did you sleep with? Didn't I tell you can get knocked up by a one- hit wonder? Remember your poor mama? She was only fifteen when she had you!"'_

How many times had she heard the same variation of the same speech? Back in high school, her _abuela_ would get all worked up with her 'don't get knocked up so you won't have to drop out of school and screw up your life' speeches. While part of her half-listened, the other part of her, the prideful part, made sure she didn't make the same mistake as her mother just so she would NEVER, EVER have to look at her _abuela's_ I- told- you- so- face.

"Ana! _Nina! Me escuchas_? ( Child, are you listening to me?)

She was momentarily startled as she'd been so absorbed in her own thoughts to notice her come in. "Aw, _abuelita,_ " Ana rolled her eyes, not knowing this was to be the last time she would enjoy a cup of coffee with her grandmother. For if she had known, she would have held her hand, memorized every detail of her face and told her just how much she loved her.

 **A/N:**  
The sonic attack and the evacuation of the diplomats was an actual event that happened in 2016. It affected more than three dozen diplomats in Cuba and in China.


	7. Chapter 7

Chapter seven

Seattle, present time, August 2018

"And so, how long have you and Mr. Christian Grey known each other?" the officer asked, this time without looking at the handbook.

"Three weeks," Christian answered from the doorway. "But they were the best weeks of my life," he smiled charmingly, his gaze shifting from the officer to Ana. "It was love at first sight."

To say that the INS officer didn't care for the sudden interruption was an understatement. If looks could kill, Christian was sure he would have been dead already. But the tall officer spoke shifting the focus of the other man's attention.

"Stanley, I've scheduled their CR1 interview to three weeks from now," the tall officer spoke with an air of finality.

"Very well, then," Stanley answered, looking at Ana. "You are free to go," he muttered reluctantly.

Ana immediately locked eyes with Christian, her relief was plain for all to see. Part of her was terrified of being sent back to Cuba. She'd been half-expecting for them to deport her and require she re-enter with the right documentation. After years of dealing with Cuba's red tape, she expected nothing less. Although now that Cuba considered her a foreigner for marrying an American man, maybe they wouldn't want her back...except perhaps to lock her up behind bars for her association with Jose.

" _Vamos, muchacha,_ " Christian mumbled extending his hand. She smiled at the sound of his voice, and clasped his hand, interlacing her fingers, as warmth and connection flowed through her. With a quiet sigh, she moved closer and leaned against him, very much aware of the INS officers staring at them. She felt safe now, and she hoped it showed.

Hand in hand, they passed an assortment of cubicles and people typing away at their desks as they were escorted back to the busyness of the airport. Ana let out the lungful of air she didn't realize she'd been holding.

"Saved by the bell," Christian smiled, recalling the look on the officer's faces when he'd strolled in assuring them of their love at first sight. "Let's get you to your father, _muchacha_."

Ana's heart beat with excitement as she scanned the faces of the crowd. At last, this was the moment she'd been waiting for all of her life. She spotted him before he did and started waving frantically.

"Daddy! Daddy!"

In the next moment Ana closed the distance between them, and grasped hold of his hands.

"Annie," her father's lower lip trembled with emotion as he pulled her into a warm embrace and kissed her warmly on both cheeks.

During those short precious moments, the world ceased to exist. It was a shock for Ana to see in person how much her daddy had aged, completely unaware of the tears rolling down her cheeks.

"I can't believe you're finally here, my Annie," he held her by the shoulders and then pulled her into another bear hug.

Christian watched from a short distance and waited to until Raymond Steele's gaze fell on him to greet him with a polite nod. He knew at once the man was very displeased with him. He wasn't terribly surprised, but he'd expected at least a measure of gratitude.

"I hope, for your sake, " Ray spoke to Christian with immeasurable scorn, "this marriage has not been consummated."

Ana blushed profusely, her gaze shifting between Christian and her father. She didn't expect this much antagonism directed at Christian and she naturally inched closer to him.

"Sir, I brought your daughter back to you safe in one piece. Maybe you're losing sight of what's important here."

"You're not answering my question. I didn't hire you to sleep with my daughter," his gaze shifted back to Ana. "In fact, I specifically asked you not to fall in love with her."

"Daddy!" Ana shook her head at a loss for words. This was not the homecoming she had envisioned. "Please?"

"And I didn't fall in love with her," Christian shot back, his voice escalating. "This has nothing to do with love. I believe it's called a marriage of convenience."

Ana winced at his words. It felt as if Christian had struck her, and she physically retreated from him.

"Blah, blah, blah," Ray sneered bridging the distance between them in an intimidating fashion. "Did you sleep with her or not? Just answer the damn question."

Christian noticed two guys in suits moving closer to them in attention. His bodyguards, he supposed. "The answer is no," his gaze shifted back to Ana; under his gaze, her cheeks had taken on the color of a ripe tomato. When he spoke again, he made sure to enunciate each word clearly. "No, I did not deflower your daughter, Mr. Steele." _Unless someone else did before me,_ he wanted to add and had to bite his tongue to keep the words from spilling out.

Ray nodded in satisfaction but his antagonistic stance didn't waver. "My attorneys already have drafted annulment papers," he spoke and Christian's gaze dropped to the suitcase the other man was carrying. God, did he really expected those documents to be signed on the spot? He risked his neck, going to Cuba to rescue his daughter, and this was the thanks he got? Just sign the damn annulment papers and get the hell out of our lives?

"Daddy! I just got here, and all you do is yell at Christian?" Ana asked in dismay. "I wouldn't be here if it weren't for him."

"Annie, I'm just clarifying things here. I hope he treated you fine and-"

"He treated me just fine," Ana replied, annoyed, not caring that there were now a group of people gathered around them watching. "He did what he had to do, and I don't like the way you're talking to him right now." She didn't know what came over her, except she felt defensive of Christian. Her gaze shifted between the two men, trying to wrap her head around the distrust that emanated from her father toward Christian. As if that wasn't enough to think about, she was also mortified by this open discussion of her sexual history; this was the one subject that was taboo in her book. Sure, there was a time, back with the nuns, when she'd enjoyed making the nuns blush crimson red with her sexually charged remarks; but that was a different situation.

"I'm afraid it's not as simple as you think, sir," Christian said, hiding a smile of satisfaction. His pride was wounded and he didn't appreciate being treated like scum off the man's shoe.

Ray scowled. "Huh?"

"Ana entered this country as my wife and we just have a nice visit with a pair of INS workers who kindly gave us a date for our CR1 interview," Christian went on with a pointed smile. Ray gave him a confused look. "That is a spousal interview."

Ray turned to his daughter for confirmation.

"The interview is three weeks from today. They gave us trouble, they complained my passport was under my maiden name."

"Getting an annulment right now is the wrong move," Christian said sounding cool and collected. "Unless you're looking for trouble with the INS."

"This is ridiculous," Ray shook his head. "Ana is an American citizen. I'm sure my lawyers will get this straightened out."

"Really?" Christian cocked his head just so which Ray interpreted as confrontational. "Easy as pie, huh? Last time I checked, marriage fraud is is considered a felony punishable with up to five years in prison for both partners."

"I think we're done here," Ray spoke, reaching to take Ana's hand. "My lawyers will get in touch with you. They will take care of the check and reimburse you for all travel expenses." He then turned to Ana with a crooked smile. "Let's go home, sweetheart."

"You are welcome," Christian said to Ray sarcastically, "It was nothing really. Call me next time you need my services again, and I'll make sure to go the extra mile for you," he mumbled, giving Ana a look of regret. There was truly nothing he could do if Ana chose to leave. "Bye, _muchacha_."

Ana's heart thundered in her chest. "Wait!" She called as Christian turned to leave. The thought of being separated from him was surprisingly devastating. "My father's words are not mine. We are married now, for better or for worse!"

Christian smiled one of his best boyish smiles just for her. And then, much to his delight, she came to stand by him in a stunning display of allegiance.

"Annie!"

"I'm sorry, daddy," Ana spoke in a tone that left no doubt she'd made her decision. "I wish I didn't have to make a choice right now," she said, her voice breaking a little. "But I'm going with Christian, I'm going wherever he goes."

Ray clenched his teeth. Part of him wanted to take back his words, but the other part, the stronger one, was too prideful to back down.

Without another word, Christian clasped Ana's hand, and together, they made their way through the crowd. Ana kept looking behind her, expecting her daddy to come after her, silent tears rolling down her face.

The drive out of the airport was overwhelming with new sights and sensations. Ana stared out the window at the vehicles whizzing by in awe. To her, they looked surreal and futuristic, much like straight out of an episode of the _Jetsons,_ where people live in the sky and drive aero cars. Everything seemed to move at a much faster pace, it seemed, either that, or she was experiencing the effects of jet lag. On their way to hail a cab which looked like a regular car, they had passed by a vending machine that dispensed sandwiches and all sorts of snacks. After asking her if she was hungry, he had inserted a card in the slot, and he was rewarded with something he'd called a _Nutri-grain_ bar. The only bending machines Ana was familiar with were in the Malecon and dispensed alcoholic beverages; half the time they didn't even work.

Christian had checked the license plate before approaching the driver. Ana was amazed that the driver knew his name. Christian explained that he had scheduled the ride online. So that's what he was doing on his cell phone. Wow. It sounded complicated, and yet it had only taken him a minute or two to do that.

Ten minutes later, the driver dropped them off at parking structure. Christian paid the driver in cash while the driver was taking out Ana's suitcase from the trunk. A security guard approached them, and Christian pulled out his wallet and ID. While the two men made small talk and the driver drove off, Ana took everything in. If Seattle looked this amazing at night, she could only imagine what it looked like during daytime hours.

It started to drizzle, which promptly put an end to the conversation. She and Christian walked to his car, a black Lexus Rx350. The first thing she noticed was the silver door handles popping out with the touch of a button. She was too stunned to notice Christian smiling to himself as he opened the door for her.

She peered inside, uncertain. Again, the interior looked pristine, out of this world. Christian graciously ushered her in and adjusted the seat for her comfort. At first Ana did not know what to say in response to his questions. Seriously, the seat was perfect the way it was and needed no adjusting. She tried to say something to that effect, but it must have come out wrong because he stopped to look at her curiously.

As they drove off, Ana stared at the flashy screen mounted on the dashboard. The radio came on, and the voices spoke at the speed of light. Ana struggled to make sense of what they were saying. The experience was rather humbling. Here she was thinking her English was flawless, and yet, she could only understand half of what these people were saying. The funny thing was, English was supposedly her native tongue; her own mother had only ever spoken to her in English from the minute she was born. American English was just as part of her identity as Cuban Spanish. It occurred to her that if a basic fact like her mother tongue could be brought into question, then, what about other beliefs her mind had classified as indisputable facts?

While they drove, she held the _Nutri-Grain_ bar in her hand. Where she was from, pastries came straight from the bakery down the street.

"You're not going to eat it?" Christian asked expectantly, his eyes darting back to the road.

Ana looked at the packaging. It was too pretty to mess up, she thought; besides, she would hate eating in his cool car and leaving crumbs everywhere. She stared at the man beside her, feeling free to study him closely now that he was focused on driving. He was incredibly handsome...and she was married to him! The thought of what the future held in store for them sent delicious shivers of excitement in every fiber of her being. From the look of things, they were spending the night together under one roof and with no chaperone in sight. Imagine that!

In the next moment, her excitement turned to sadness when she thought of her father staring after her. The fact that he had not moved a muscle to prevent her from leaving was particularly devastating, considering how much she had looked forward to their reunion. How could her father had been so cold and careless was beyond her.

Christian asked her something about driving, pulling her out of her reverie. Her? Driving? She'd never seriously considered it.

"No. We never had a car, not even while my mother was alive. We always walked or took the bus. Hmm...we also rode our bikes."

During the silence that followed, Ana opened the wrapper and took a bite of the Nutri-Grain bar. It tasted just like she thought it would. Artificial. She stuffed the rest of it in the only purse she owned, a soft leather crossbody bag that had once belonged to her mother.

They parked in an underground garage and headed for the elevators. He took her hand as they entered the elevator, and the people inside moved to make room for them. Ana wondered how many people lived in the building. The elevator stopped at the penthouse.

The penthouse housed two residents on opposite sides of the building. After they exited the elevator, Christian explained that the other floors had four apartments per floor. Ana nodded in awe of everything.

"It's after midnight. We better try to get to bed. Tomorrow I'll show you around," Christian said in a tired voice as he unlocked the door to his apartment.

Ana scanned the room as the lights came on. The place was huge and starkly decorated. Two large bookcases ran from one side of the wall to the other. So, he was a reader. Good. She followed him to the bedroom. He took off his backpack and deposited her suitcase on the black and white comforter.

"Is this your room?"

Christian turned to look at her with amusement in his eyes. "Our room, you mean?"

"I don't think-"

"Let me remind you, the interview is in three weeks. It may sound like a long time, but it's not. We only have three weeks to become very intimate with one another," he glanced back at the bed. "What side of the bed you want? I usually take the entire bed, so it will be quite an adjustment for me."

The way he was looking at her made her blush, so she turned her head, flustered. "I still don't think we should sleep in the same bed. We can just ask each other questions in preparation for the interview," she said, her hand clutching the zipper of her suitcase.

Christian clucked his tongue. "Huh huh. That's not how it works. This, this marriage of ours has to be real. I'm not risking it. I'm not doing jail time for this," he spoke, putting his hands on top of hers. "Hey, I really appreciate you standing up to your dad. It must have been hard for you," he said, looking intently into her eyes.

For a minute there she thought he was going to lean down and kiss her. She shook her head to get rid of any naive romantic notions; after all, she had heard him tell her father that he wasn't in love with her and that theirs was a marriage of convenience.

"Just so we're clear...I still hate you, you know," she said, her voice barely above a whisper.

 _Dios_ (God)! The words came out of her mouth just in time. One more second alone with this man, she wouldn't have been able to hide how much he affected her. She had no idea how she was going to survive the night sleeping next to him, let alone the next three weeks.

Christian stepped back, stung. Why was it that every time they got close, she made sure to put a barrier between them? "Crystal clear," he spat, pulling back the covers on the left side of the bed. "I call dibs on the side closest to the bathroom," he glared at her. "And we're in this together for better or for worse, so you better be taking notes and my likes and dislikes," he added while stepping off his shoes and pulling his shirt over his head. It landed somewhere behind him. "Oh, and don't you worry your pretty little head, I don't sleep in the nude," he added, knowing full well it would make her blush. But heck, it was payback time.

Her gaze froze on his naked chest and admired his defined six pack. Oh, _Dios mio,_ the sight of him took her breath away. She looked away, pretended to busy herself looking through her suitcase. How on earth was she going to able to sleep next to him? But she had no choice. He did have a point; she didn't see how she could get out of this without appearing like the greatest fool.

At last, she found her nightgown. It was nothing spectacular, just plain white and scantily made, reaching all the way down to her ankles. She hurried into the bathroom before he decided to finish undressing in front of her or something crazy like that.

Crazy? Was it really crazy? After all, this was supposedly their first night alone together. Not their wedding night. No. They had spent a couple of nights after the civil ceremony sleeping in the guest room at the embassy so technically, this was not their wedding night.

Twenty minutes later.

"Are you ever coming out?" Christian banged on her door. He was exhausted and wanted to get to bed, but she was taking forever.

Ana opened the door a minute later. She had taken a shower, and her hair was dripping wet.

He frowned. Ana noted he was wearing a pair of long string pants and wondered what he would look like in his underwear. The thought brought a flush to her cheeks.

"You're not going to bed with your hair soaked wet like that, are you?'

"What choice do I have? Do you have a hair dryer?" She said and he shook his head no. She continued drying her hair with a towel. "I'm sorry, she mumbled with a guilty expression.

"Sorry for what?"

"I spilled some of your shampoo trying to get the lid off." She was behaving like a bad guest. She had used his towels and shampoo without his permission.

Christian shrugged. "It's okay. Climb into bed," he mumbled, turning to get under the covers.

A moment later, Ana climbed in bed beside him. He reached to turned off the bedside lamp and stayed in that position with his back turned o her.

"Good night," she mumbled.

"Good night."

Ana stared at the ceiling, wide awake. She tried to meditate and clear her mind of unwanted thoughts but was failing miserably. He looked so incredibly sexy-in the softly lit room, his hair mussed from tossing and turning on his pillow, trying to get comfortable. From his movements, she could tell he was still angry at her; all of a sudden, she had the urge to wrap herself around him and tell him she was sorry. Maybe he was thinking about their near kiss. _Ay, Dios!_ What was wrong with her? She needed a reality check. He couldn't possibly be thinking about kissing her; her lips couldn't possibly be more special than his countless other women. There was no doubt about it. A man like him attracted women like honey, and it was foolish of her to even think he liked her in that way.

Trouble was, the reality check didn't work. She tossed and turned and dreamed of their kiss in the attic of the embassy all night long.


	8. Chapter 8

**A/N**

Disclaimer: I have never been to Cuba. Some of the cultural assumptions I'm making in this chapter are partly based on the research I did. They're also based on my experience of living in a Latin American country for a number of years. I speak Spanish fluently and I currently live in the United States. If you have lived in Cuba and I get anything wrong, let me know.

* * *

Chapter eight

After a few hours of fitful sleep, Christian got up the following morning, showered and put on a pair of long shorts and t-shirt and ventured down the hall toward the kitchen. He could smell breakfast cooking, so much, in fact, that was what woke him up in the first place. At first, he was disoriented, but then he remembered he was back in the States. Except he no longer lived alone.

As soon he'd dragged himself out of bed, he'd sat on the side of his bed, feet on the floor and had checked his phone. He'd blinked, surprised at the number of notifications on his screen. The only message he'd remembered reading was the one from Raymond Steele demanding that he return his daughter immediately as if she were some merchandise of his he'd stolen. Christian's first reaction was to let out a yawn. What an entitled moron, he thought.

* * *

Ana woke up an hour earlier, at the crack of dawn, disoriented and unusually tired. Jet lag, she supposed. Her eyes felt like sandpaper, and yet she knew there was no way she'd go back to sleep. Her mind was too preoccupied with her new surroundings and with the Adonis of a man sleeping beside her. His hair had fallen across his forehead, and she resisted the urge to brush it back. Biting her lip mindlessly, she wondered if he would allow her to give him a haircut; from the look of things, he hadn't gotten one in a long while.

And to think this was the first time ever sleeping next to someone of the opposite sex. She wasn't was of those lucky girls who'd grow up with a slew of cousins like some of her female friends who routinely attended large family gatherings and sleepovers. If it weren't for Jose, she would know next to nothing about men.

Poor Jose. She really hoped he was okay. She felt a pang thinking of the people back home. A huge lump formed in her throat thinking of mami. Dios, she missed her so much already.

Determined not to linger in a sea of sadness, Ana eased out of bed being careful not to wake Christian, used the bathroom and changed into a plain white top and her one good pair of jeans. She didn't have a lot of choices when it came to clothing; whoever packed her suitcase had been in a hurry. She envisioned her grandmother side by side the courier sent by Heather, discussing wardrobe choices. Mami, overwhelmed by grief by the sudden departure of her only granddaughter had just mindlessly thrown in whatever she'd found hanging in her closet. That certainly explained why she'd given preference to other items like books and photo albums and a stack of documents. She shook her head as she glanced at the papers that her grandmother considered indispensable. Baptismal and first Communion certificates. Copies of all her grades from early elementary thru high school as well as her graded essays. As if she would ever need those.

Glancing at her reflection in the mirror, Ana grabbed her hairbrush and attempted to brush away the wave of nostalgia that suddenly engulfed her. She had finally left Cuba and everything and everyone she knew.

After a thousand strokes, she tiptoed out of the room and gave herself a tour of the penthouse. To say that it was impressive was an understatement. There were 10 bedrooms, 5 bathrooms ( including the one in the master), a living room with separate dining room, a den, plus carpeting in some rooms, hardwood floors in others. There was so much space, it was something to behold. It was simply gorgeous. Now that she wasn't as nervous as last night, she really could take the time to take everything in.

Her eyes kept moving through the living room with its streamlined couches, glass-topped coffee table and flat screen TV mounted on the wall. At least she believed it was a TV. Although it could have easily been a computer, judging by the funny looking keyboard shaped like a remote control. Back in Cuba, their TV didn't have a remote control; although people she knew had Televisions with remotes with a button for volume and another one to flip the channels.

She ran her hands through the flat letter keys, and at once, her finger pads struggled to maintain a proper typing position.

Last night, at the airport, she'd watched Christian's fingers fly on his phone screen like he was mad at it. Twenty seconds later he told her that he'd called an uber, which was basically a taxi, he' d explained. Ana hated feeling so clueless. She'd stared at him feeling like a complete idiot.

After putting the keyboard away in the same spot where she found it, she surveyed the entire room again in greater detail. It was all spare, colorless and yet, absolutely dramatic. Her bare feet loved sinking deliciously into the plush carpeting. This place made Ana feel as though she'd stepped into another dimension as the guest star in an episode of one of her favorite shows, the _Twilight Zone._

When Ana was growing up, she usually had no trouble obtaining pirated copies of movies and TV shows on Betamax and later on VHS. Much of what she knew about American culture was through these TV shows. Most of the movies and shows she'd watched had been dubbed in Spanish and lost some of its original content. She'd also received shipments from her father on a regular basis (in English of course) from some of her other favorite shows like _Beverly Hills 90210, Friends, Party of five_ and _Full House._

Stepping into the kitchen was awe inspiring. It was huge, but the most impressive of all were the stylish black kitchen cabinets and stainless steel appliances. After opening the cupboards and drawers and inspecting their contents to her heart's content, Ana's gravitated to the island that dominated the center of the room and ran her finger along the shiny white marble countertop. She'd never seen a kitchen island like this one except perhaps in the movies. Her gaze shifted again to the black cupboards. Ordinarily, she would have thought of black as too dark and ugly of a color, but standing here barefoot in this pristine white marble floor, she had to admit the bold color contrast was striking.

After locating a medium sized skillet, Ana went about fixing breakfast.

"I see you made yourself at home, muchacha," Christian murmured, sniffing the aroma of eggs and ham.

Ana turned to see Christian standing there, smiling. His hair was still wet from his shower, and she once again felt the urge to brush that wayward strand that stubbornly fell across his forehead.

"Good morning," She murmured and waited for his answer. Her next words were completely spontaneous. "This is a lovely kitchen. My mother used to say the kitchen is the heart of a home." Her mother taught her a lot of things. She taught her to always greet others politely whenever you enter a room. And make sure to ask them first thing in the morning how they slept. This last rule, in particular, was of paramount importance, it was the sign of a well-bred young lady.

"How did you sleep?"

Christian looked at her impassively. "Fine... thanks." He answered while taking a seat at a barstool around the kitchen island. At that moment, he looked very much like a man who had the thinnest veneer of interest in social niceties. Ana wondered why it suddenly bothered her that he had not asked her how she'd slept and why hadn't she noticed this before. She honestly had no clue. She'd always been a bit of a rebel in the sense of never being afraid to rock the boat; it was a bit of a shock to suddenly find herself clinging desperately to the values she grew up with.

"I looked for bread to make toast, but I couldn't find it." She'd also looked for a toaster and found all kinds of fancy appliances but no toaster.

Christian moved to open the freezer, which seemed utterly strange to her. This freezer was a huge drawer that pulled out. Her freezer at home was small, barely a single compartment located at the top and accessible from the inside only. It was rarely used except to store ice trays; this freezer, on the other hand, clearly player a greater role, it was packed full of stuff.

Next thing she knew, Christian pulled out a cylinder from the freezer and cracked it open. Out popped something gooey. He promptly scooped the gooey substance on a cookie tray, slid it in the oven, and pressed a button. "We got to wait, it's preheating."

"What is that?" Ana asked, wide-eyed, standing next to him.

Christian handed her the can of Pillsbury butter flake crescent rolls.

"Is that canned bread?" She said, staring at the doughboy with button-like blue eyes pictured on the can.

Christian laughed. "They're croissants. It will take about 15 minutes to bake. But, since the eggs are ready, why don't we sit down and eat while we wait for the croissants?" Noting that she had the eggs served on two plates, he reached for a drawer and grabbed two black cloth placemats.

Ana placed the hot plates on the placemats and stood there awkwardly watching Christian set the silverware and take a seat in one of the bar-stools.

He motioned for her to take a seat and eyed her curiously.

Ana wordlessly sat down across from him and took a bite of her eggs, expecting them to taste like the eggs from back home. But they didn't taste the same. Maybe it was the ham that was giving the eggs a different flavor?

"Nice apartment," she said to break the ice.

Christian nodded. He was really enjoying his eggs. They were nice and fluffy. "These are really good." He cocked his head, studying her. "Did you cook them with butter?"

"I did." She'd also added some water. Back home, it was sometimes necessary to add water to stretch the dish out.

Christian gazed at the butter stick on the counter next to the stove. It looked like most of the stick was gone. He distinctly remembered buying butter before his trip and never getting a chance to open it. Wow, did she really use half a stick of butter on these eggs? Unlike every woman he knew, she obviously not watching her fat intake. Not that she needed it. She was thin, too thin in his opinion. Still, he made a mental note to show her the cooking spray.

He thought about telling her about her father's email message, but she spoke before he had a chance, shifting his train of thought.

"This is a great kitchen," she gave him a small smile which he reciprocated. "Let me guess... your favorite color is black." She smiled. She had to admit, even the food looked more attractive served on black plates.

"I didn't decorate this place. It belonged to my folks."

When he said that she realized how little she knew about this man she'd married. She looked up from her plate. "Oh. Where are they now?"

Christian looked away, his body closed off to her. "They're gone now," he replied vaguely. Obviously, he didn't want to talk about them.

Ana was confused. She didn't know exactly what he meant. Were his parents dead? Or were they gone somewhere...?

"I do like black though, so you were right about that," he smiled and studied her closely. "So how does it feel being in the good ol' USA?" He asked, wondering if she was homesick already.

"Seattle is quite different from Havana," she murmured looking out the kitchen window to the western sky. It was such a bright sunny morning.

"Here we just don't go exploring on foot. Everyone drives their own car," he pointed out. The last thing he needed was for Ana to try venturing out into the streets of Seattle on her own.

"Okay," Ana hesitated. "What time do you have to go to work? When can go shopping for groceries?"

"I'm my own boss. That means that I don't have to report to work at a certain time." As a bounty hunter, he got to choose which cases to take. Usually, unless he was working on a private case, he placed a call to the police department and put his name down on a list. But since no one knew he was back in the country, technically he didn't have anywhere to be at the moment. "But back to your question. We can go shopping tomorrow." He hated grocery shopping; it was the most boring thing in the world.

Ana's eyes widened. "But you don't have any food here...except for eggs and yogurt."

Christian chuckled and moved to open the freezer and motioned for her to take a look. He pulled out a bunch of rectangular boxes with pictures of dishes on them. He sorted through them, showing her each title. Spaghetti and Meatballs. Chicken Teriyaki. Mexican Enchilada. The boxes had the words: _Healthy choice_ printed across the top.

Ana was shocked beyond her wildest dreams. Was he suggesting they eat whatever was packed in that frozen box?

"So...which one looks good to you?"

She looked at him like he had grown three horns on his head.

"Oh," he chuckled. "You put these in the microwave and heat them. They're as good as though they came straight out of the oven."

"Christian...is this what you normally eat at home?"

He didn't like the sound of that question; it sounded just a tad too critical. "These are actually pretty good," he said sincerely even though it was a losing battle. There was no way she was eating his frozen meals.

"I'm going to make us lunch," she announced cheerfully just as the stove timer beeped.

Christian moved to take the croissants out of the oven. Ana had to admit, they did smell good but not nearly as good as the bakery back home. He then served them on small dessert plates. Since the croissants were plain, he asked if she wanted some butter on hers while layering a spoonful of butter. She shook her head no.

Ana eyed at the croissants suspiciously. From the look of things, she had no other choice but try a bite of the pastry even though she was already full from the eggs. Forcing herself to get it over with once and for all, she took a bite and swallowed. Hmm. Spongy. Not much substance there. It was also overly sweet. She tried to discern the ingredients by taste, but the sweetness seemed to overpower all the other flavors.

Christian realized right away that she didn't like the croissants but decided not to comment. "So what are you fixing for lunch?" He asked, intrigued.

Ana smiled. Cooking was one of her favorite activities. "I'm in the mood for black beans, and rice and _tostones._ How does that sound?"

Christian had tried _tostones_ before at a restaurant in Havana, and he wasn't particularly thrilled by them, but he didn't hate them either. The problem was that they needed to go grocery shopping for that.

"We can just go out to a restaurant instead," he coolly suggested. It was fast and a lot easier. He was surprised when she looked almost offended.

"No, no. A restaurant? Restaurants are for special occasions. We need food to prepare at home."

"This is your first day in America, _muchacha_ ," he said with a twinkle in his eyes. "It doesn't get more special than that."

"Christian, I-"

"Grocery shopping is a pain," he cut in. But then seeing the look of dismay on her face, he added. "Alright, alright. I will call the store and arrange for home delivery."

The idea of having their groceries delivered seemed grossly unappealing. She needed to go to the store and handpick the beans and plantains. The idea of trusting a third person to do it for her was so foreign.

"It will save us a lot of time...time that could be better spent getting to know each other better," Christian eyed her critically, "We only have three weeks before the interview. It's not a lot of time, trust me...I've lived a lot longer than you. We need to be wholly prepared to answer any question.

How ironic, Ana thought, for him to say that when moments ago he'd avoided telling her about his family.

"We have to know everything there is to know about each other and prove our marriage is real."

 _Our marriage. It sounded foreign and yet so intimate,_ Ana sighed. There was something that didn't add up. How could they ever hope to prove anything beyond any reasonable doubt if they weren't _intimate_ in that way like a real husband and wife? Her doubts must have been written all over her face, judging by his next words.

"What's going on in that pretty little head, _muchacha_?"

"Are you going to keep on calling me _muchacha_ all the time now?... Even when we're out and about? People are going to start thinking it's my name."

Christian threw his head back and laughed. He had to admit he'd become quite fond of the nickname in the last few days. "Okay., then. What do you want me to call you?"

She shrugged one shoulder. "How about Ana?"

"Your wish is my command," he grinned, tipping an imaginary hat, "my lady."

Ana grinned back and he was happy they were having a good morning.

He looked into her eyes as if seeing her for the first time. She held his gaze and his heart stood still, waiting. But then she stood up and picked up the empty plates from the table and took them to the kitchen sink. The spell was broken. She was about to turn on the faucet. when she turned to him with a question mark written all over her face.

"You looking for something, sweetheart?"

He stood beside her. "A kitchen... towel?"

He reached into a drawer and handed her an embroidered towel. His gaze fixated on her wedding band as their fingers touched. They were both taken aback by a sudden jolt of electricity passing between them.

"Oh, no. Not that," she said after a long moment, stepping back to put as much physical distance between them as possible. "I'm looking for something less nice. For scrubbing?"

He pointed to the one next to the dish-washing liquid.

"No, not that. I need something to wipe the counter with."

He finally understood. "You mean a rag?"

"YES!" She laughed. "YES! I need several rags for the kitchen."

"I don't have any rags. I just use paper towels," he said, pointing to the paper towel holder.

Ana looked at him as though he'd grown horns on his head. "Oh..." She said with a small voice, not critical, just genuinely puzzled. "But that's so wasteful." Back in Cuba, paper was expensive. To her, using paper towels instead of rags for everyday cleaning tasks was like literally throwing paper money down the drain.

"Ana," he looked at her intently. While they talked, she had washed his plate and hers and set them in the drain holder. "I appreciate you washing my plate for me this time...but here in America, every person cleans after themselves. Men and women are equals. Women are not here exclusively to serve while the men play cards and drink beer."

She looked at him thoughtfully for a moment before going on to wash the skillet and the other utensils they'd used. "I'm sorry. But I have to earn my keep," she said with a bewildered expression.

Christian studied her for a long time, thinking. This girl was used to working hard from the crack of dawn until she went to bed. To her, that kind of physical labor was like breathing. You don't have to tell your lungs to take a breath, they just breathe.

"I understand you want to feel useful. But I also want you to understand you're not my servant...if anything, you're a guest in my home." He paused for effect. "And it would be rude to ask guests to do housework, wouldn't it?"

Ana finished rinsing off the last dish. She turned to look at him with an amused expression. "I thought we were practicing for the interview...we're supposed to act like husband and wife," she added with a 'got you' expression and her chin slightly tilted.

Christian shook his head and smiled. Although Anastasia Steele seemed to have a penchant for stirring up trouble, part of him seriously admired her...smart mouth and all. He'd never been in a relationship with a woman like her, so terrifyingly smart and yet so transparent in her words and actions. He didn't think she had a deceiving bone in her body.

"I'm just fulfilling my duties as your wife."

"Speaking of duties, there is one duty you've been neglecting," he said with a devilish smirk, "your wifely duty in the bedroom, sweetheart."

Ana looked into his majestic gray eyes that were suddenly filled with wanting passion, and she couldn't help but look at him with the same expression. But no, she shook her head, trying to uncloud it. If he thought she was just going to drop her panties, he had another thing coming. Her first time had to be for love, there was no way around it.

In the next moment, she broke eye contact and ran off to the bathroom. Half an hour later, she had moved to bedroom. She just hoped that by the time she came out, he had forgotten their conversation. _Your wifely duty in the bedroom._ The thought filled her with more excitement than she cared to admit.

By the time she was ready to join him in the living room, Christian was perched on the couch, intensely focused on his cell phone. She sat across from him and patiently waited. Rude much? She thought after fifteen minutes of silence. All at once, she was annoyed and equally disappointed. What could he be doing with that thing that was so important?

"Why did you come with me, Anastasia?" He suddenly asked startling her.

"I didn't like the way my father treated you and the demands that he made."

"Really? Seems like you could have just given him a piece of your mind. You didn't have to come with me."

Ana was momentarily speechless, which Christian found quite refreshing.

"I think you came with me because you didn't want to take any chances. You came with me because it seemed like the safest bet."

Ana looked down at her hands. What could she say? Sure, Christian, you're right...I was afraid I'd get deported? When she heard her father saying his lawyers would take care of things, she heard alarm bells ringing in her head. She just didn't think it was a done deal like Ray made it sound like. Deep down, she had a general mistrust of lawyers and the justice system. Where she came from lawyers were crooks, and justice was a man-made abstraction.

"Not that I blame you in the least. You know the Cuban justice system better than anyone, they got you blacklisted. They want names, and this time you won't get as lucky," he paused, gauging her reaction. "You know exactly what Jose has been planning, you got all the intel...Of course, you do. He's your best friend, by your own admission."

Ana lowered her gaze. "I'm not a political activist," she said weakly.

"You mean you've never played an active role? I believe that. But there are more subtle ways to participate. Delivering messages, for instance. And we both know you've done at least that."

Ana bit her lip, which stirred in him feelings he didn't know he had. "Okay, I did some favors for Jose every now and then," she readily admitted. "I happen to know a lot of people. It's always about who you know. But I never wanted to get involved, believe me. All I ever wanted was to come to America and be reunited with my father," she went on all choked up. _"I still can't believe what happened at the airport!" It was hardly the homecoming she had dreamed about for so many years._

Christian's gaze softened. "I appreciate your honesty. It would have been so easy for you to deny your involvement," he exhaled deeply. "Regarding your father, it was never my intention.,."

"I know, I know, you were doing your job. You brought me back. You even went the extra mile and sacrificed your own freedom and married me."

"Duly noted. Now, You're making it sound like marrying you was a terrible ordeal," he said with a hint of amusement in his eyes. "It wasn't."

Ana found herself holding his gaze for the longest time, losing herself in the depths that were as tempting as sin. There was something so invigorating in the way he was teasing her. So marrying her wasn't an ordeal. Hmm..Did that mean he had no regrets despite the horrible way her father had treated him upon their return?"

Christian put his cell phone aside and came beside her. His sudden proximity made her nervous, so she immediately sprung to her feet.

"We need to go to the store. Beans take a long time to prepare," she looked at the Casio watch on her wrist. The watch had once belonged to her mother, and it had cost her a small fortune to replace the battery a couple of years ago.

"We need to leave now so I can have enough time to fix them before dinner. And we have to go in person."

Christian shook his head in disbelief. He couldn't believe they were back to that. She was really determined to cook those beans, wasn't she?

"Speaking of dinner. Are you hungry? It's lunchtime, you know."

"Not really. I had a big breakfast."

 _Oh, yeah. She eats like a baby bird._

You like pizza?" He asked, and she nodded. Bingo! Now that was something they could agree on, a food that almost everyone on the planet loved. In the next moment, Christian rubbed his hands together and reached for his phone. This was gonna be great. "I"m ordering a pizza. Pineapple and onions okay? He asked, glancing up for a moment as he waited for her answer.

"Are you calling the pizza place?"

"No. I'm using their app, Almost every business has an app nowadays. It's a lot faster than calling," he mumbled matter-of-factly. "Tomorrow I'm gonna get you a phone and show you what I mean," he paused, realizing she still hadn't given him an answer. "You like anchovies?"

She gave him a blank look. "I...I don't know."

"I'm not a fan of them either. So...what do you like on your pizza?"

She didn't know what to say. She'd only had pizza three or four times in her life at a sit-down restaurant. She remembered loving the taste of melted cheese. She didn't realize there were choices for toppings. She'd simply enjoyed a slice of a large pizza that was served for the entire table. She'd only been to fancy restaurants on special occasions.

In his haste to get the order placed, Christian realized he'd not taken into consideration that all of this was new to her. He was going to need to slow down and discuss this in greater detail. "Come," he said, patting the cushion beside him. "I'm going to show you pictures of different toppings."

Instead of sitting by him, Ana moved to closer to the window and pretended to be absorbed in the scenery. "That's okay. Why don't you just order what you like? I'm sure I will like it too."

"Okay. I'm going to order a Hawaiian pizza, one of my favorites," Christian murmured, before going back to his phone to place the order. After he was done, his attention shifted to Ana who was still looking out the window, lost in her thoughts. "A penny for your thoughts?"

She met his gaze. "Huh?"

"It's just an expression."

"How about dinner?" She pressed. She still wanted to go to the store and get the beans, rice, and plantains. She hoped he wouldn't insist on calling the store instead.

"We just took care of lunch. How about we worry about one meal at a time?" He joked, but she was still concerned. "Let's not worry about that. Your father wants to meet with us. I say the safest thing is to meet him down at a restaurant."

Ana tried to remember when was the last time she'd had two restaurant meals in one day. Probably never. "You talked to my father?"

"No, he sent me an email...electronic messaging."

"I know what an email is," she was quick to add, quite glad there was at least something she was somewhat familiar with. She'd created an email account once at an internet cafe. She'd used it to email her father, but then she forgot the password, and she got locked her out of her account. It had been extremely frustrating, and her responses timed out. She threw her hands in the air, giving up. It seemed too much of a hassle.

Anyhow, she was appalled her father hadn't called. Email seemed so impersonal. "What if he insists we get an annulment?"

"We tell him that's completely off the table," he paused, gauging her reaction.

Ana nodded. "Absolutely."

 **A/N:**

 **I hope you enjoyed this chapter as much as I enjoyed writing. What's new? My muse received a wake up call and is now on a roll :D that means I will be updating more frequently!**

 **Also, did any of you notice that I recently tagged this story as a slow burn? If you love slow burns, stay tuned, you're in for a treat! Have a wonderful week!**


	9. Chapter 9

Chapter nine

"Ana, If you're really that uncomfortable with the idea of meeting at a restaurant, we can just meet here," Christian said somewhat reluctantly.

"A restaurant is just so cold and impersonal," she replied. _Just like emails. Also, a restaurant would be more appropriate if they were celebrating something._

Christian went back to his phone and started typing something. "Okay, fine, I'll ask him to come here instead," he murmured while continuing to type. Ana marveled at how fast his fingers flew across the small screen.

Just when she thought he was finally done with his furious typing, he spent a considerable amount of time seemingly staring at his phone screen. From time to time, she also noticed his right thumb moving in a swiping motion. Ten minutes went by, and he was still absorbed in whatever he was doing.

Ana let out an exasperated sigh, tired of him acting like a tribal god answering in monosyllables and stormed off to the bedroom. How rude of him to ignore her like this. This was only her first day, and she was starting to hate that phone of his already. Fifteen minutes later, however, she had completely forgotten about it, absorbed in the task of unpacking her suitcase. The master closet was huge, bigger than her bathroom back home. It featured a clothing rod that went across all four walls and storage shelving on top. His clothing occupied only one of the four sections; the other three were filled with empty hangers. If she were back in Cuba and she was sharing this closet with her friend Marisol, she imagined, their clothing combined would not even come close to using up all the space that Christian wasn't using.

If Marisol were here in her place, she would have already developed a bad case of Cabin fever. She would have called everyone she knew back in Cuba, ventured out into the streets of Seattle and taken Christian's phone and smashed it to pieces or at the very least found a good place to hide it. This last thought brought a hint of a smile to her face.

"Your father will be here in an hour," Christian said as he walked into the bedroom, startling her. "Didn't mean to scare you." He noted that she was hanging up her clothing and nodded approvingly. He came inside the closet and bridged the distance between them.

"I hope this is okay," she murmured weakly trying not to think about his proximity in this enclosed environment. She failed miserably. Her thoughts derailed to the king-sized bed just a few feet away. How she was going to manage to sleep next to him a second night was beyond her.

"Mi casa es su casa, Mrs. Grey," he said with a wicked grin. The way he called her Mrs. Grey combined with his invasion of her personal space instantly warmed up her cheeks. _Ay, Dios (oh, God),_ was he going to seduce her? Maybe he was toying with her, maybe he wasn't. Maybe he was bored. Her reaction, however, for sure seemed to encourage him further as he reached to help her with a hanger, and their fingers brushed again. Unsettled, she jerked back and ended up hitting her head against the rod behind her.

Christian inhaled and wondered what part to play. Hurt and offended? Amused? This last one was harder to pull off but definitely more fun. If she was going to continue acting so skittish around him, he might as well have some fun with it.

" Are you alright?" he whispered. "I hope you don't get a bump," his fingers inched to the back of her head and gently massaged the area while guiding her toward him until his face was inches from hers.

She closed her eyes and started breathing heavily as he moved his lips closer to hers. He smelled like the faint scent of Old Spice, and she was surprised at the intense wave of longing that followed. When at last, he brushed his lips against hers, she caught her breath in an audible sigh, anticipating the same ardent passion of their first kiss.

Instead, he broke the spell by pulling away and looking her straight in the eye. "I got to do a few things before your father gets here."

Ana blinked and stared at that stray lock of hair of his. "Okay."

And with that, Christian exited the room, leaving Ana alone, bewildered and terribly frustrated. All her life, she'd done well avoiding unpredictable, frustrating men like Christian Grey. A man like him should come with a 'do not disturb' sign like those you find at a hotel to warn poor unsuspecting females like her. Especially when that lock of hair keeps falling across his forehead and everything within her itched to brush it back. It had to be America. Something about this country was making her want to do crazy things and feel things she'd never felt before.

…..

An hour later

Clad in the best dress she owned, Ana threw herself in her daddy's arms as soon as he walked through the door. Seeing him, brought back fond memories of when he visited her in Cuba when she was seven years old. Those six months were the happiest of her life. Giddy with excitement, she so much looked forward to him picking her up every morning. He would take her to his hotel, and they would play board games or watch movies and later have lunch in the hotel restaurant. Back then, he filled her mind with stories of when he was growing up and generations past. He awakened her imagination and opened up a new world she'd had no idea existed. Although she was quite young at the time and didn't remember all the details, she never grew tired of listening to his stories. He became her refuge when she needed it the most; Ray's visits meant Ana got to spend less time at home, away from her new step-father, a man she'd grown to fear.

"I'd like to speak with my daughter privately if you don't mind," Ray spoke

curtly as Christian shut the door behind him.

Ana had been too busy embracing her dad to notice how the two men had greeted each other with an almost imperceptible nod. Nevertheless, her father's request made her turn to Christian, her gaze silently asking if he was okay with that. His expression told her he had no objections.

"I'll be in the other room if you need me," he said to Ana before exiting the room.

Wordlessly, Ana invited her father to sit down with her on the couch. She studied his face closely. There were dark circles under his eyes, he must have had a rough night. And his body sank between the cushions right beside her.

"Annie, I gotta say, I'm very sorry for how things went last night."

Hearing him say that made Ana feel a pang of tenderness. Yes, her father still loved her, and all was well with the world.

"I was still quite upset about this...this shotgun marriage of yours," he shook his head and pursed his lips, "this is the last thing I wanted for you."

Ana shook her head, alarmed and mortified. "No, daddy, I'm not pregnant."

"By shotgun, I was talking about the forced part."

"I believe it was for the best. It was quite noble of Christian. I think you owe him an apology, daddy. He took a huge risk by helping me. He could go to jail if it's ever discovered-"

"I still don't understand—-" he interrupted, "If the marriage is fake, why be so adamant against an annulment?" He looked at her intently. "Have you slept with him? Tell me the truth, whatever it is. It's not your fault, sweetheart."

Ana averted her eyes, blushing.

"Is there something else going on between you two?" He pressed.

"No. Nothing has happened between us," she replied, barely meeting his eyes.

"Good," Ray smiled, seemingly satisfied. "About the annulment-"

"I'm...we're not getting an annulment, daddy," Ana said firmly. "Can we talk about something else? When do I get to meet Chloe?"

Chloe was Ana's younger half-sister. Ana had just assumed that her father would have brought her to the airport to meet her and was surprised when he didn't.

Ray hesitated. "I got some news for you. Something happened in the last few days...Sylvia and I got back together."

Ana blinked, not understanding. Sylvia and her father had been divorced for a couple of years now. She still didn't understand. What did his getting back together with Sylvia have anything to do with her meeting Chloe?

Ray exhaled. There was no easy way to say this. "Sylvia has always been against me connecting with you. She has this foolish animosity against your mother," he said apologetically. "She shouldn't. In the end, I married her and not your mother." He concluded, leaving out the part where he'd only married Sylvia on the rebound. He'd just returned from his trip to Cuba, heartbroken that Carla did not wait for him and married someone else. Such details seemed unnecessary to him.

Ana gave her father a blank look. She knew that Carla and Sylvia had been friends in high school and that they had both fallen for her father. And that heir friendship had abruptly ended when Sylvia discovered Carla and Ray were in a relationship. But that had happened such a long time ago, she failed to see how any of this was relevant.

"Are you trying to tell me Sylvia hates me because something that happened eighteen years ago, something that wasn't even my fault?"

"I know it's ridiculous, but- I'm really trying to rebuild my marriage for Chloe's sake."

Ana shook her head, reading between the lines. Was her father trying to tell her she was not be welcomed to live with him since Sylvia did not want her there? The realization was a huge blow to her fragile ego. If her father was not strong enough to stand up to Sylvia, where did that leave her? She turned her face away to hide her tears. So that explained why her father had not come after her that night at the airport. Was he perhaps secretly relieved?

Much to her chagrin, her eyes filled with tears. Putting as much physical distance between her and her father, she stood in a corner and buried her face in her hands and cried. She'd never felt so desolate and unwanted in her entire life. There was this clutching, sinking feeling in her chest, and a furious knot in her stomach.

"Oh, Annie, please don't cry," Ray came to put his arms around her, but she pushed him away and ran off to the master bedroom. On her way there, she bumped into Christian.

"Ana...what's going on?"

Ana sniffed and rushed past him, shutting the door behind her.

Stunned, Christian made his way back to the living room to confront the man responsible.

"Why is Ana crying?" he demanded. "What happened?"

Ray exhaled loudly. "I told her my ex-wife doesn't want her home with us." Seeing the look of confusion Christian's face, he shrugged one shoulder. "We recently got back together," he added as if that was good enough of an explanation.

Christian shook his head in disbelief. "Let me get this straight. You just told Ana your ex-wife doesn't want her in your life? What kind of a father are you?" He spat. He was having a hard time reconciling this new information with the same distraught father who had hired him to bring his daughter to the United States.

"Christian Grey," Ray said with a scowl. "You're judging me. And you," he went on with great disdain, "you're not in a position to make judgments."

Christian gave the other man a cold hard glare. The two men measured each other in silence, with speculative and proving eyes.

"You've got something to say? Say it now!"

"You're damned right I've got something to say!" Ray hissed. "If I had to do it all over again, I would have never hired you. You're the last man on earth I would want anywhere near my daughter." He took a deep breath, struggling to keep his emotions in check. "Does the name Elena Lincoln ring a bell?"


	10. Chapter 10

Chapter ten

"Can I come in?" Christian lingered by the threshold to the master bedroom.

Ana was sitting up in bed, cross-legged, staring numbly at the ceiling. She had already cried all her tears, and there were none left. She turned her head to the side; she didn't want him to see her bloodshot eyes and Rudolph's nose.

Christian sat on the edge of the bed to her left.

"Is he gone?" she asked without making full eye contact with him.

"Yep."

"Did he tell you?"

"About his ex-wife?"

At last, Ana turned to look at him. Seeing the sadness in her eyes, Christian felt a pang of sweet tenderness toward her.

"Yeah, he told me," he exhaled deeply. "I'm sorry, Ana."

"It's not your fault," she said, dabbing her eyes, partly to avoid his direct gaze.

"It's just something people say. What I should have said is that I'm sorry you have to go through this right now when you are most vulnerable. I can only imagine how you must feel being plucked from your homeland and from everyone you've ever known," he murmured softly. She bent her head as if she was going to start crying again, and he scooted closer and reaching over to touch her left hand. His thumb instantly moved to trace little circles on the inside of her wrist.

"What can I do to make you feel better?"

At last, Ana met his gaze but didn't respond. She was really enjoying the magic of his touch. It was sending tiny shivers down her spine.

He suddenly remembered the question he'd been meaning to ask her. "Did your symptoms go away completely...the ringing in your ears?"

Oh, yes. The sonic attack. Somehow it seemed like a century ago. "Yes, they did."

Good. Although he was still planning on making her an appointment with a doctor to rule out any lingering side effects.

"Are you hungry? The pizza is finally here. It seems like the delivery guy was new. Anyway, it shouldn't have taken an hour to get here," he shrugged. "At least we got it for free."

Ana's eyes widened, unable to process this information. Did he say they got the pizza for free? That just didn't make any sense.

"But why?"

"Why what?"

She shook her head and removed her hand from his touch to run her left hand through her hair. "Why would they give it to you for free?"

Christian shrugged. It was such a basic and complex question. "That's just how businesses work here in America. It's the one hundred percent satisfaction guaranteed service model. If a product or service is not up to a certain standard, then the customer receives a full refund."

Ana shook her head again, even more, baffled. "But what is this 'certain standard' exactly? And a full refund is not the same as getting something for free."

"I guess I didn't explain that right. The standard can be arbitrary. What it really means is that the customer is always right and if he or she is not satisfied for whatever reason, then he doesn't have to pay. In the restaurant business that often means the customer get compensated somehow with another similar item or getting the item for free."

"But...It seems to me restaurants would be losing more money? I mean, how can they afford to stay in business with so many customers getting their food for free?"

Christian let out a chuckle. "Believe it or not, the number of unsatisfied customers is a small number... small enough that businesses can absorb the loss."

"But people can take advantage..."

"Yeah. There will always be freeloaders

, but they're still a minority."

"But how could they be a minority?"

"They just are," Christian said. He was starting to get a bit frustrated. Ana was questioning things he'd just taken for granted and forcing him to think deeper. She'd been living with him less than 24 hours and she was forcing him to re-evaluate his life to the most basic levels. God, it was as if he'd been sleepwalking all his life.

Ana really disliked his answer. It really didn't help her understand how things worked any better. In some ways, she was back at square one. So, in America, you get things for free if you're unhappy?

The idea was absurd.

"I used to run my own business back in Cuba, I sold homemade yogurt," she said in an attempt to prove to him she was no dummy, she knew about economic business models. She even took a couple of business courses in high school.

Christian nodded, recalling that bit of information had come directly from Raymond Steele when he hired him.

"I don't think this one hundred percent business model would have worked for me... I would have lost more money than I earned."

He cleared his throat. He didn't have any more to add to this conversation. Plus he was starving. So he rose to his feet and offered her his hand. "Pizza is getting cold." She took his hand and let him pull her up to stand next to him. They stood inches apart. She looked down, and he lifted her chin with his finger.

"I hope you're feeling better...from earlier?"

She nodded, and unspoken agreement passed between them; that they would enjoy each other's company, for now, postponing any serious conversation about the potential storm involving her father. And together, hand in hand, they walked back to the kitchen and sat down to eat at the kitchen island.

"So what do you think?" He asked after she had her first bite of the Hawaiian pizza.

"It's...kind of good."

"Are you saying that because it's the polite thing to say or because you really like it?"

Ana exhaled. "Okay...hmm... maybe it would taste better without the pineapples?"

"Take them off then," he said good-naturedly, and she smiled. He was relieved to see her carefree smile as she plucked the pineapples off and ate with gusto. He didn't know why, but her happiness mattered a great deal to him at the moment.

They talked for a little while they ate and then, most unexpectedly, he grew a bit serious. "Tomorrow morning I'm going back to work. That means I will be home until a call comes in from the police station or the courthouse saying they need me to track down someone who's jumped bail. I have to be ready to go at a moment's notice. I don't work weekends though."

Ana nodded. Tomorrow was Wednesday. She was about to open her mouth to comment when he beat her to it as though he'd been reading her mind.

"I guess this calls for a trip to the grocery store," he murmured with a small smile which she instantly reciprocated. He exhaled deeply, coming to the realization that there was still a lot Ana needed to learn. She also needed clothes and a phone. And a car. The list seemed endless.

LATER

Ana was used to shopping in modest mom n' pop stores. Stepping into a big supermarket chain store was overwhelming, to say the least. The size of the store and the sheer amount of merchandise on display made it hard was hard to process. She found it hard to shift her focus fast enough to take everything in. Every couple of steps, she stopped to check out something, attracted by the bright, alluring packaging.

Realizing this, Christian did his best to move quickly through the store and steer her toward getting the basic items on their list only. Later over the weekend, they would come back for a couple of hours and look at things in greater detail. They stopped the longest when selecting cooking oil, cereal, coffee, and cooking spices.

Ana couldn't believe there was an entire aisle dedicated to breakfast cereal. Back in Havana, making choices was easy as there were two or three choices per category. If she ever came here by herself, she would need to spend hours and still find it difficult to make up her mind. Luckily, Christian knew exactly what he wanted. He selected his favorite cereal plus three other ones for Ana to try. Ana shook her head no, no. She didn't need three boxes of cereal. She would be happy to eat the same cereal as he. By now, he'd learned that Cubans don't have cereal for breakfast and that Ana was used to getting by with just a piece of toast with her coffee first thing in the morning.

Two and a half hours later they were at Escala.

Almost as soon as they were back, Ana busied herself in the kitchen, and Christian took the opportunity to catch up on everything he had missed while he was in Cuba. Sitting at the kitchen island, he fired up his laptop and surfed the internet. He still needed to catch up on everything he'd missed while he was in Havana and hadn't even come close to reading to all of his emails. He needed to prioritize. Predictably, there was one from Ray Steele inviting Ana to dinner tomorrow night at a restaurant. The invitation mentioned it was a chance for her to meet Chloe, and it clearly stated it was just the three of them. Christian gritted his teeth, he was clearly being excluded.

He glanced up at Ana. She was busy in the kitchen cooking, and she was clearly in her element. So he decided against mentioning the email. It would only stir up feelings of unhappiness; he wasn't looking to ruin their quiet, restful evening together.

"How is it going? You have everything you need?"

"Yeah. I just finished with the beans and rice," she murmured while slicing a green plantain into thin slices. She put a heavy skillet on the stove and started heating the oil.

"That's an awful lot of oil," Christian said, looking over his laptop.

" _Tostones_ are fried in deep oil," she replied, smiling.

"Can I help you with anything?"

"I'm okay. I just need to add a pinch of salt."

Christian got up and fetched a salt shaker for her. "Here you go."

Their fingers brushed when he handed her the salt. Christian stared deeply into her eyes, and she immediately lowered her gaze and threw herself into the task at hand.

Christian watched her prepare the _tostones._ After the oil was boiling hot,she heated the slices for about three minutes. At the end of the three minutes, the plantains were lightly browned and soft but not mushy. She then removed the slices with a spoon and let them cool for about a minute. After that, she smashed the plantains into flat rounds. This time she fried them for another three minutes until they were crisp and golden brown. It wasn't until then that she sprinkled them with a dash of salt.

"We need to wait until they cool down a little more."

He nodded. "How about the beans and rice?

"The rice will take another ten minutes, but the beans could take as long as three hours."

Christian whistled. "I don't know much about cooking, but I've heard of pressure cookers. They reduce cooking time in half."

"I've never used a pressure cooker."

"I guess I will have to get you one."

She smiled. "We can have the _tostones_ as a light snack before our meal," she suggested casually.

She looked so eager for him to try her _tostones_ , he didn't have the heart to refuse. She served him a couple of slices in a small plate. He grabbed a slice with his hand and popped it in his mouth. Hmm. These were actually quite good. Unlike the ones he'd tried at the restaurant in Havana, these were not as salty. They made a really good snack.

Seeing the expression on his face brought joy to her eyes. She gave herself permission to serve herself a couple of slices and eat them. Christian was happy to see her having an appetite; unlike every woman he'd ever known, she really needed to put on some weight.

"I grew up having _tostones_ at every meal," Ana said happily. That had all changed when she got arrested. After that, their choices had been more limited, and they could no longer afford the same luxuries.

"We'll have to save some for our meal then," he said his body naturally leaning closer to her. They were standing close to each other next to the stove.

"Don't worry, we have plenty," she said even as she reached back to start another batch of plantains. Except these were not green but ripe plantains. She explained that the ripe plantains would be soft, mushy and very sweet.

They waited another six minutes for the second batch of plantains to cook. Christian stayed put, knowing that his proximity was making her nervous. But he really couldn't help himself. To help her relax a little more, he glanced over at the plantains and pretended he was really interested in watching the cooking process.

He took a bite of the ripe plantains and she stared at his mouth as he savored the sweetness slowly. "These are really good," he said, licking a bit of stickiness off his fingers. "Thank you for making them."

Watching his lips, Ana felt her pulse spike like crazy.

"Aren't you gonna have some?"

At once, Ana put a slice of the second batch in her mouth. He was right. These were pretty good. She honestly couldn't tell them apart from the ones back home. She was acutely aware of him watching her intently as she chewed. Desperately needing something to do, she reached to double check the stove was turned off even though she didn't need to.

"Wait," he said, his arms on either side of her now, trapping her between him and the counter. There was a sliver of sweetness still trapped on her lips.

She held her breath as he leaned close, her face inches from his own. "Christian," she gripped the counter behind her, watching his eyes darken. "What are you doing?"

He grazed the side of her mouth with his thumb, showed her the trace of mushy sweetness he swept away and brushed it across her lower lip. Her tongue slipped out to blot the sweetness, and he watched her in utter fascination.

Ana didn't remember consciously moving closer and yet, she found her left thigh pressed against his right one, and her palm rested on his chest. She tried to swallow, but her mouth was too dry.

"Relax, Ana.

"Christian..."

"Yes?" He murmured against the side of her neck, his warm lips setting off sparks of excitement. "This can't happen."

"Hmm...you sure about that?" He murmured with a hint of amusement in his eyes.

She closed her eyes as he nipped her lobe. Want and panic battled within her. To let him continue was asking for trouble. There was no way she could rationalize this and justify going against her principles, the honorable principles she'd been brought up in. It was a code of honor she couldn't break. She'd already done it once when she agreed to marry him. The fact that they were now married did not mean theirs was a union blessed by love.

With a gentle finger, he lifted her chin, tipped her face up, and placed his mouth over hers. He teased her lips slow and deliberate, testing, and then tasting as she responded. One hand curved down her back and the other skimmed the curve of her hip. Want surged under his touch, and she pressed herself against his aroused body.

As he drew in a shuddering breath, filling his lugs with her, Ana shifted minutely creating this amazing friction between them. Her nipples hardened, and her body throbbed.

Christian continued to kiss her with passion mixed in with tenderness, and Ana continued to shift her body, increasing the friction between them. Her breath hitched, she needed more. Christian groaned against her lips, and she stretched herself toward him, bringing her hips against his. For a moment, she felt a burst of pleasure _down there_ that shocked her, and then she was shocked to realize she was pressing herself shamelessly against his erection.

….

 **A/N:**

Am I posting these chapters too fast for y'all? I can always slow down and go back to my other stories if you need more time to catch up


	11. Chapter 11

Chapter eleven

He didn't think much about what he was doing, he was letting desire and need take over. He deepened the kiss, his hands threading through her hair, keeping her captive while he delved inside, kissing her until she moaned and trembled, clinging to him like he was her lifeline. Fuck, he needed to come clean and tell her the unspeakable things he'd done, but he didn't want to.

Yes they were married, but their marriage was fake, and it could blow up in her face any time, she thought, leaving her alone and vulnerable. There was no way she was making the same mistake as her mother, knocked up and with nowhere to turn. Or worse still, with him staying married to her not because of love but out of a sense of obligation.

Yet she was unable to will herself to peel her lips away from his.

Right then, the fire smoke went off, the magic of the moment rudely interrupted. They both stepped away from each other, startled.

Ana instinctively reached for the pot, and in her haste, she accidentally bumped her thumb against the hot pan. She withdrew her hand, grimacing in pain.

" _Mierda! (Shit),_ " she cried out, feeling incredibly stupid for completely forgetting about the rice. Admittedly, having Christian there had been a major distraction.

Christian rushed to run cold water over her burned hand. After about a minute, he lifted her hand out of the water to inspect it. Her thumb looked red and sore. He placed it again under the water for another minute. "How does it feel?"

"It hurts!" She sighed helplessly. That frightful alarm sound was driving her nuts.

"I"m getting an icepack for it," he said as he removed her hand from the faucet and wrapped it in a kitchen towel for about ten seconds. He then pulled out a soft icepack from the freezer and gently replaced the towel for the icepack. He searched her face for her reaction. Only when he was reassured that she could tolerate the temperature did he attempt to do something about the noise; grabbing a towel, he waved it against the smoke alarm to silence it. The last thing he did was dump the pot with its burned towel in the sink.

He looked at her uncertain of what to do next, and that's when she told him about getting some toothpaste on the burn. Together they went to the half-bathroom down the hall. He got the toothpaste for her, and she dabbed a good amount onto her finger and licked it. Right now, watching her finger slide out of her mouth, he wanted nothing but to bed her, and it was taking all his willpower to not consummate their marriage.

…...

She met his eyes timidly. "Christian?"

"Hmm?"

"This thing that happened was a mistake. A mistake that can't happen again."

"A mistake? Is that what you call it?" He retorted. His voice had an angry edge mixed with some disappointment too. He was upset she was calling their kiss a mistake. Anastasia was the first woman he'd ever kissed on the lips; for him kissing was more intimate than the sexual act, that's why he never kissed any of his former submissives on the lips.

"You could have stopped me at anytime, but you didn't," he reminded her pointedly.

After making sure she was going to be okay, he left her alone and buried himself in his laptop, and she spent the rest of the afternoon in the kitchen. She made another pot of rice and seasoned the beans while they continued to cook. It was well after 7 pm when they finally sat down for dinner. After dinner, they sat down to watch TV. Christian had really enjoyed how she prepared the black beans. As usual, Ana insisted on doing the dishes. He turned on the TV to catch the news, but he couldn't concentrate. He couldn't stop thinking of Anastasia; he needed to find a way to equalize things between them. But he wasn't exactly what you would call a domesticated man. He didn't cook or do dishes ( he usually ordered takeout or ate his frozen meals right out of their trays) and he had Molly Maid come once or twice a week for regular housekeeping.

After she was done with the dishes, she came over to join him in the living room. She sat on the other end of the three-seater couch, her back not touching the cushions behind her.

"Relax," he mumbled, moving closer to her than she would have liked.

Ana smiled politely and turned to the TV screen. It was really overpowering watching a screen this huge; she wondered if she would ever get used to this.

She stared at the bottom of the screen for the longest time. The newscaster was talking about a high profile kidnapping case, but she couldn't quite concentrate on much of what he said. For one, he spoke too fast for her to process and secondly, there was a detail that bugged her to no end. A misspelled word on the bottom of the screen. Over the years, she had taught herself English grammar and was a quite proficient speller and had gotten high marks in an English-Spanish translator course she took in her senior year.

"I need to call mami," she said suddenly. "And let her know I arrived safely." She looked at her watch. "This is the perfect time, she will be home for sure, getting ready for bed."

"Of course," Christian felt like slapping himself. He should have suggested that hours ago. "I'm calling her right now." He picked up the landline and dialed her number which he had logged into his cell phone and then handed her the receiver.

"How long?" She asked while the call connected. "How long can I talk?"

Christian narrowed his eyes, not understanding.

"International calls are expensive."

He shook his head. "Don't give it a second thought. You can talk as long as you want."

Ana's expression brightened the second she heard her grandmother's voice. They talked for about fifteen minutes with Ana staying close to the phone base. Even though intellectually she knew it was a cordless phone, she still behaved like it was a corded telephone.

"Ana," Christian started once she was ended the call. "How is she doing?"

"She's a little sad, she misses me," she said, all choked up.

Her sadness tugged at Christian's heartstrings. He was amazed at how easily he was able to put himself in her place and imagine how she must be feeling leaving her grandmother behind and everything she'd ever known. Maybe visiting Cuba had made it easier to look at life from her perspective.

"I told her you said hi."

He nodded. "She's going to be okay. I will be sending her enough money for her daily expenses once a month." Unlike Raymond Steele, he'd never given the Cuban government any reason to blacklist him; sending her grandmother money should be as easy as pie.

Ana's jaw dropped.

"That is very generous of you. Thank you," She said, touched. Even though she knew her mami had the neighbors looking after her, she was profoundly relieved knowing her needs would be taken care of.

"Technically, it's really our money since we are legally married," he murmured with the tiniest of winks.

Ana nervously averted his gaze; in turn, he grabbed the remote, started flipping the channels. Looking at the TV seemed safer. Nothing in the world would have ever prepared her for what she saw next as she sat back down next to him.

 _"Ay, Dios mio! (Oh, my God!)_ She exclaimed, staring wide-eyed at the images of people in the nude on the TV screen.

Christian peeled his eyes away from Ana to look at the TV screen. The show was called _Naked and Afraid._ He hadn't purposely meant to watch this show in particular. He's watched a few scenes here and there but didn't find it all that interesting.

Ana started laughing nervously, half-hysterically. Christian was amused. Soon he was laughing too.

She felt her cheeks redden profusely as she watched a man and a woman running around in the wilderness of the cold Alaskan Tundra completely exposed to the elements. A white square on the screen covered their privates, but it was still disturbing to watch, especially because their behinds were freely exposed in all their glory. She found it offensive and embarrassing and yet, at the same time, she couldn't help but watch much like a commuter slowing down to a crawl when passing an accident scene after being stuck in gridlock for hours.

The woman in the show had long straight hair that partially covered her boobs, even so, it left little to the imagination. At one point, she was walking barefooted and stopped to sit on a rock to examine her bleeding foot from walking in treacherous terrain.

Once again, Ana averted her eyes, still laughing. Unable to look at Christian in the eye.

"These people are contestants in a survivor show," Christian said as a way of an explanation unable to contain the laughter. Her laughter was

so light an infectious, he had tears in his eyes; whoa, he hadn't laughed like this in years.

At last, she stopped laughing and gave him a blank look as she processed what he just said.

"It's like a game show. They're competing for prizes against other contestants to see who manages to survive the most days out in the wilderness," he said, realizing that Ana had most likely never seen a game show and had no idea what he was talking about.

"Someone did this to them on purpose and FILMED IT!" She said utterly outraged.

"Yeah, but they volunteered for it. Actually. they got paid a handsome amount of money to do this."

Ana was positively horrified. That anyone in their right minds would volunteer to appear on national TV butt naked was beyond her. As a matter of fact, if that wasn't the definition of insanity, then she didn't know what was.

"They-this woman wanted to be filmed?" She asked, shaking her head, eyes glued to the screen. She still couldn't look at him in the eye. "She wanted to be filmed naked...like that? For money?" She continued shaking her head, thinking she would die first before agreeing to something like this.

Christian flipped the channel to a cooking show. Ana, however, was too distraught to pay attention.

"Ana, it's over. I changed the channel."

"You're the first man that has tempted me to sin," she said suddenly, thinking about nakedness and sin. There, she had said it, confessed about her virginity and waited with bated breath to see what he would do. Last night, her strategy had been to tell him she hated him, tonight, it was to simply tell him the truth.

Christian stared at her dumbfounded. The words temptation and sin in the same sentence sounded religious and old-fashioned. Why was he so surprised? This girl (yes, she's a girl, not a woman) was from another era; a reluctant time traveler, if you will. Wait a minute, was she saying what he thought she was saying?

"Are you telling me you' ve never been with a man before?" He murmured quietly. "Are you a virgin?"

She nodded, glancing at him for a moment before averting her eyes once again.

Christian exhaled soundly. Of course. He didn't know why he'd assumed she wasn't a virgin. Hold on a sec, he did know. All along, he had wanted to believe that she wasn't, in case they ended up in bed together.

But now that she'd told him she was a virgin, he couldn't help but feel as though if he tried something with her, it would be like taking advantage, like robbing the cradle. He, a man of a dark, dubious past and she, the picture of innocence personified.

For the rest of the evening, they sat in front of the TV with the volume turned down to its lowest in comfortable, peaceful silence. Outside, a rainstorm surged with occasional lightning. Ana was cold even after he got up and turned up the heating system.

He picked up a blanket and brought it over to the couch.

"C' mere, let me help you warm-up," he said, putting his arm around her.

At first, she was tense but then started to relax and tucked her knees and stretched her legs across the length of the soft velvet couch. He then covered her feet tenderly with the blanket.

After a short while, he turned off the TV and the lamp at the bedside table. They sat together, their bodies too groggy and relaxed to move. They wordlessly made the decision to simply stay there. Slowly, they shifted around to a lying down position until he had his back pressed against the back of the couch, her bottom pressed against him, his arms around her. She sighed as she pulled the blanket tighter around them. Being so close to her lovely scent, he couldn't help but brush his lips to the base of her neck. His fingers itched to trace the contours of her body. Despite his earlier assertions, and without actually touching her, he felt her slim and gentle curves, she was damn perfect. He ached to move past her low back where her T-shirt met her jeans, resenting the hard, thick fabric which prevented him from feeling her warmth. Suddenly, a voice, the voice in of reason shouted: _Stop it, Grey! Sick bastard!_

He continued to shift some as he kept repeating the words like a mantra. Now, more than ever, he was convinced he couldn't in good conscience take her virginity; not without revealing his tortured, perverted past.

Feeling quite drowsy, and realizing he wasn't going to try anything with her, she snuggled into him. She completely relaxed, knowing he was only trying to find a comfortable position to sleep in. Within five minutes, they were both sound asleep.

When Ana peeled her eyes open again, she realized it was still dark, and her bladder is about to explode. A lock at her Casio watch told her it was a little after 3 am. She turned slightly to gaze Christian's peaceful face; she had loved the feeling of sleeping with his arms wrapped around her. Not wanting to disturb him, she carefully eased off the couch and headed for the bathroom. After relieving her bladder, she stopped for a minute at the foot of the bed in the master bedroom. She was tempted to climb in under the covers. It was the sensible thing to do. Wasn't it?

She moved to the side of the bed she'd slept in the night before to look for her nightgown under her pillow. The gown was admittedly too long and a bit nun-stylish, but it was quite comfy and practically brand new. She quickly undressed, slid it over her head, and slipped under the covers. Christian invaded her thoughts the minute she closed her eyes. No matter how hard she tried going back to sleep, she couldn't stop thinking of him. She dreamed of him kissing her, touching her thighs, her belly; dreamed of him soothing the ache between her legs. She tossed and turned, her body on fire with a need she didn't understand.

She thought she was dreaming, but she was, in fact, awake right in that place right between the two. Longing to feel his arms around her, (and against her better judgment), she slid out of bed and made a beeline for the couch. She knelt down, in the semi-darkness of the room, facing him, watching him sleep. She smiled at the lock of copper hair across his forehead and smoothed it back. There. Maybe, if she was lucky, he'd let her cut his hair.

* * *

The next morning

"Good morning, sleepyhead," Christian murmured close to her ear.

Ana awoke at once to find Christian standing over her, dressed in slacks and short sleeve t-shirt. It didn't look like any ordinary t-shirt; it was cashmere. She knew because she had seen he had several of those t-shirts hanging in his closet.

"Hmm...what time is it?" She asked straightening to a sitting position. She had a vague recollection of returning to the couch after her bathroom trip and him wrapping his arms contentedly around her body. She'd never slept better in her life, she thought, amazed she'd slept with him all night long without actually sleeping with him for the second night in a row. Except that last night had been the best so far.

"A little after nine," he answered casually, "I'm leaving for work." When he awoke earlier this morning, he'd noticed she had changed into her pro-granny- era pajamas sometime during the night.

Ana was horrified, she'd never slept in this late in her entire life. "I'm so sorry...give me a few minutes, I'll get your breakfast ready."

"Don't worry, sweetheart. I had cereal." He said, taking a seat on the opposite end of the couch.

Ana ran a hand over her hair. She must look a fright. "I'm really sorry! Why didn't you wake me?" Her gaze fixated on his pants, which seemed awfully wrinkled. "Let me iron those for you," she offered, biting her lip, a thousand thoughts going through her head. For one, she hadn't even given him a proper good morning. Mami would be horrified if she knew.

"Stop biting your lip, will you?" He said. He had something important to tell her, and the lip-biting was distracting. She froze and stared blankly at him. "Also, you don't need to iron anything for me. I think we've had this talk before, you're not my maid."

"I should have ironed those yesterday instead of watching television," she went on as though she hadn't heard him. "You know what you could do? You could leave your clothes out the night before, and I can make sure-"

He clucked his tongue and shook his head. "What am I gonna do with you, _muchacha?_ You don't have to do a thing around here." He shook his head again. "We both slept in, and that was good. We're both had a form of delayed jet lag, I suppose." He paused, slapping both hands on his knees as though he was almost ready to rise to his feet. "Now, before I go..."

"How did you sleep last night?" She interrupted, minding her good manners.

He frowned. He really didn't have time for ritualistic niceties. "Fine. Listen, your father wants to meet with you at a restaurant tonight."

"What?"

"Yeah, he wants to meet with you for dinner. Chloe will be there too."

"He called you? No-let me guess, he emailed you?"

"You catch on fast," he smiled a boyish smile. "Anyhow, he's picking you up at 5:00 p.m. I except your father to be on his best behavior. If not, I will personally-" he trailed, catching himself before he cursed.

"But-wait!" Ana said, her gaze small and vulnerable as he rose to his feet. "You're not going to be there?"

"No. I was not included in this invitation."

Ana was outraged. "I don't care. I want you there."

Christian's lips curve into a wide smile. "Now, that right there is quite sweet of you," he went on putting a hand over his heart. "I'm deeply touched...but I can't make it, I'm meeting a new client around that time," he said matter-of-factly. "I gotta go now," he said, bending down to kiss her forehead. "I'll call you laters."

Before she had a chance to respond, he grabbed his briefcase and was out the door. After he left, she showered and fixed eggs and toast for breakfast. It felt awfully lonely in this big apartment without Christian. She kept busy by cleaning the kitchen and the bathrooms. She would have mopped too except she couldn't find a mop anywhere. She did find a broom and a stick with a swivel rectangular bottom, but she didn't know what you used it for except that it was great for removing cobwebs in hard to reach places. Except the broom could also do the same job just as easily. She would have also ironed his shirts and pants and maybe even his underwear, but she looked and looked for an actual iron and couldn't find one anywhere.

She skipped lunch since Christian informed her she was having dinner at a restaurant and so she figured she needed to save her appetite until then. She was just thinking about Christian and what he would be having for lunch when he called. She jumped when she heard the ringing sound, it was unlike anything she'd heard before.

She lifted the receiver off its cradle and pushed the answer button like Christian had shown her.

"Hello?"

"Anastasia. Everything alright?"

"Yes, yes. When are you coming home?"

"Not probably until after 8pm. Hopefully, your father will bring you home before then. You have my number in case you need anything. Okay?"

"Yes, yes."

"Okay, bye," Christian hang up without waiting for her response.

Later

At 4:30 sharp, Ray rang the doorbell. Chloe was with him; she was blond and extremely tall for a ten-year-old. Further, the way she dressed made her look a lot older.

"Hi, Ana!" Chloe wrapped her arms around her. Ana was wearing a simple dark green knit dress and her one good pair of sandals. The dress was a little big on her but it was the nicest thing she owned for evening wear. "I can't believe you're finally here!"

Ana was moved by Chloe's warm embrace. "I'm so glad to finally meet you! Wow, you're almost as tall as me!"

Chloe straightened and the two girls measured each other.

"We've better get going," Ray smiled, a bit preoccupied. "The restaurant is a 25-minute drive."

They were seated as soon as they arrived at a four-star restaurant. The restaurant had candles, white linen tables and a wall to ceiling window with a breathtaking view of the city. Ana could only imagine how spectacular the view would be like at sunset.

Ana sat beside the window, Ray across from her, and Chloe sat facing the window. She immediately took the cloth napkin and placed it on her lap with the folded edges toward her knees. She then carefully unfolded it. Both Chloe and her Ray unfolded their napkins on the table and then threw them on their laps.

"I'm sorry how it went the other day," Ray said lamely. Anastasia was starting to think this was a recurring theme with her father: hurting her and then later apologizing. "I didn't even get to tell you what I came to tell you."

Ana put the menu down and showed him with her body language that she was ready to listen.

"I got a proposition for you. I got you an apartment for you to live in, all expenses paid." He said, showing her a brochure. "It's not too far from my place so I can come and see you often," he concluded with a self-satisfied smile.

Ana was floored. At first, she didn't know what to say. She glanced over at Chloe, but the girl seemed as though she'd forgotten that she ( Ana) even existed; completely absorbed in whatever she was doing with her phone.

"I don't think-"

"What is there to think?" Ray cut in. "I rented this place for you," he shook his head. "It's a beautiful place..."

Ana blinked. The implication was clear. Anyone in their right mind would love the place. But she couldn't accept something like this. She'd never lived alone in her life...plus there was Christian.

"I can't. I can't accept this," Ana said firmly.

Ray ran an exasperated hand through his neck. "Ana, let me remind you that I'm your father. I can afford to get you your own place. You don't have to live with that man-"

"That man is now my husband," Ana shot back. She couldn't stand her father speaking ill of Christian. Christian was the only person she fully trusted, the only person she could truly count on in her present circumstances, period. "Please, _father,_ don't speak of him like that."

Ray frowned, immediately zeroing in on her 'tone' when she'd called him father. He consciously decided to try another tactic. "Annie, I don't know if-I want to give you EVERYTHING you need because I can, I'm a very wealthy man, don't forget that." He paused but before she could say anything else, he spoke again. "I want you to go to college, to Harvard, actually. I've already spoken with the faculty administrators, and they're holding a spot open for you in business school," he paused again. "Or any other major you want, actually. You've just graduated from high school, your life is barely starting," he said glancing over at his other daughter who was still deeply involved in her phone. "And I want to give you every opportunity to conquer the world. You're only eighteen, for heaven's sake! This is the time of your life to enjoy...it's not the time to be married, that would have been the last thing I would have wanted for you."

Right then, the waiter appeared, all smiles. He wanted to know if they were ready for him to take their orders.

Realizing she had no idea what she would order, she panicked. She picked the first thing she saw on the menu, wild-caught salmon. She felt bad because she wasn't able to choose something not too pricey; but then again, everything on that menu seemed exorbitantly priced.

"Are you ready to order?" Ray asked her, and she nodded.

Ana pointed to the waiter what she wanted. In turn, he asked her if she wanted mashed potatoes or a different side dish. She picked mashed potatoes because it was easier than choosing from the long list of side dishes.

Next, Ray placed his order, which took about five seconds. Chloe took a lot longer; she asked various questions about different dishes. In the end, she chose fettuccine Alfredo.

After the waiter discreetly disappeared, Ray easily segued back to their previous conversation. "I'm in the position to give you everything you need and everything you want, I don't think you fully realized that."

"Everything I want?" Ana questioned.

"Absolutely, sweetie, everything, and anything."

"Except living with you," Ana pointed out bitterly, and her father recoiled at her tone.

"Do they have restaurants over there in Cuba?" Chloe suddenly asked.

"Of course."

"Like this one?"

"Yes."

"Do you have cars and bathrooms? Daddy says you have one of those old TV's with an antenna-"

"Chloe!" Ray gave his youngest daughter a warning look. "You're being very rude right now, Chloe. Cuba is a country like any other-"

"That's not what you said, daddy," Chloe pointed out which clearly annoyed her father to no end and elicited another warning look from him.

"Yes, Chloe, we have cars and bathrooms inside people's homes just like everywhere else in the world," Ana said, unable to hide her emotions. She did feel insulted by the girl's questions. "We also have schools, movie theaters, restaurants, stores, and everything else. And these are actual buildings with electricity and running water. Oh, and I lived in a nice house, NOT a mud hut with dirt floors."

"But you don't have computers or I-phones-" the ten-year-old added.

"Chloe, go back to your game," Ray snapped. "I'm trying to have an important conversation with your sister."

Ana shook her head. Suddenly, she wanted to leave. She didn't want anything to do with her father or Chloe for that matter. Feeling a tightness in her chest, her hand went to her heart and her eyes filled with tears. All she wanted was to go back home (Cuba). America was not the place she'd imagined it to be.

Ray reached for Ana's hands across the table. "Annie, you can't keep living with that man," he paused meaningfully. "He's a wicked man, Annie," he cocked his head, trying to appeal to emotions that he knew she would understand. "He's not the right man for you."

 **A/N:** Your words have the power to keep me going. Please review and keep my muse happy and productive.

#Review-Junkie


	12. Chapter 12

Oh, but my heart is in Havana (ay)  
There's somethin' 'bout his manners (uh huh)  
Havana, ooh na-na (uh)

He didn't walk up with that "how you doin'?"  
(When he came in the room)  
He said there's a lot of girls I can do with  
(But I can't without you)  
I knew him forever in a minute  
(That summer night in June)  
And papa says he got malo (bad) in him  
He got me feelin' like

Havana, ooh na-na (ay)  
Half of my heart is in Havana, ooh-na-na (ay, ay)

-Camila Cabello-

* * *

Chapter twelve

"You don't love me," Ana hissed, meeting her father's gaze. Everything about him seemingly alien, incomprehensible.

"Wh-what?" Ray furrowed his brow. "How can you say that, sweetheart? You have any idea everything I've done for you all these years trying to get you home?"

Ana met his gaze, unwavering. If she was going to survive this, she had to shed who she'd been and become a different Ana, and harden her heart against her father.

"If you loved me, you would take me to live with you."

Ray shook his head, outraged. "You're twisting things around," his sigh was more a huff of exasperation. "I've already explained the situation with Chloe's mother," he looked over at Chloe who was now half-listening, half- messing with her phone.

"All I know is that you don't want me with you, that's all I understand," she said, looking at her father square in the eye. "And I don't want to hear another bad word about Christian," she paused giving him a pointed look, "if I hear you bad-mouthing her again I will leave," she said, and she meant it one hundred percent. She had no money, no phone, and no way of getting back to Christian's place, but she would do it even if she had to hitchhike her way there. She'd never felt so helpless and utterly dependent in her entire life; yet she would find a way, even if she to go looking for a payphone somewhere and call Christian from there.

Right then, the waiter reappeared with a tray of steaming food. "There you go," he set a dish cheerfully in front of each person, even though tension at the table was palpable. "Anything else I can get you?"

"Yeah, I'd like a milkshake," Chloe said, and her father gave her a sharp look. She took a deep breath. "Please."

Ana almost asked for the nearest payphone but seeing the placating look on her father's face, she changed her mind. She would stay for the rest of this dinner (there was no point in wasting a perfectly good meal), but if he came close to bad-mouthing Christian again, she would walk away without turning back.

"Salt and pepper, please," Raymond said without looking at the waiter.

"Coming right up," the waiter mumbled before disappearing.

They ate in almost complete silence for the next ten minutes, with Chloe making small talk; remarks about her friends or school or a TV show she was wanting to watch.

"Okay, let's not discuss Christian Grey anymore. But please think about what I said: your own place while you're in town and then Harvard in the fall. You're such a bright student. With your grades and test scores, you can have the very best education in the world," he said, his gaze alternating between his two daughters, giving Ana the impression that this part of the conversation was being said mostly for Chloe's benefit.

Chloe crossed her arms with a huff and glared at her father. "Are you saying I have bad grades?"

"Chloe! " Ray admonished in an exasperated voice. "Why must you always assume everything is about you?" His gaze shifted back to Ana. "You do want to go to college, don't you? Last time we talked about this-"

"Last time we talked I was still living in Cuba. I've been here two days, and you're talking about sending me away to live half-way across the country!"

"Well, technically Washington and Massachusetts are on opposite ends," Chloe said.

"Ana," he tried to reach for her hand across the table, but she snatched it away.

Shaken, Ana grabbed the brochure he'd given her and flung it in his direction. It flew across the table and landed on the floor. One of the busboys retrieved it and brought back to their table with an apologetic expression.

The gesture left no doubt in her father's mind that she meant what she said about leaving if he didn't abide by her wishes. When he spoke again, he used a placating voice. "Okay, you don't want to move. Let's talk about college then. This is the opportunity of a lifetime, don't waste it."

"Dad! I think Ana doesn't wanna talk about that either," Chloe observed.

Ray ignored her. "Annie, I only want the best for you. Harvard is my alma mater, and it's only natural I would want the same for you-"

"Maybe something fun would be better," Chloe said, putting her silverware down, signaling she'd finished her meal. "Like my Nikki dress up game," she went on, scooting her chair closer to Ana. "Let me show you."

Ana stared at the colorful, busy screen. It had so much to look at, she felt overwhelmed. Looking down at her plate, which was still half-full, she felt a tinge of guilt. She was sure she could not eat another bite and yet, she couldn't let all this food go to waste, could she?"

Chloe went on to explain how the game worked. Looking bored, Ray pulled out his phone and messed with it while he ate.

"Oh, I almost forgot!" Chloe squealed. "I got a present for you," she said retrieving a gift bag she had stored under the table.

Ana held her breath in surprise. A gift for her? Now that was really thoughtful. It wasn't her birthday or any special occasion.

"Tada! Go ahead, open it!"

Ana untied the strings and looked through mountains of wrapping paper. Down at the bottom was what appeared to be a cell phone.

"It was my old phone, my very first one. It's not an I-phone, but it's still pretty good."

Ana looked over at her father. He wasn't paying attention to them anymore, his head buried in his phone. "Thank you, Chloe, that was thoughtful of you," she said, holding the cell phone in her hand. It was incredibly lightweight. At least now she would be able to call Christian to come and get her if it came to that.

"How do I make a call?"

"Oh. You can't make calls with this one unless it's to 911. It doesn't have service, but you can still connect to Wi-fi. Here, I'll show you."

Ana watched her half-sister mess with her 'new' phone. It seemed to take forever. In the meantime, she looked at other people around her and sipped her water.

"This is just temporary," Ray said to Ana, referring to the phone. "I'm getting you a brand new phone, but I don't have it yet. This one that Chloe is giving you should tide you over until then."

Ana shook her head, bewildered. Why would she need a new phone when she's getting this one?

"Okay, I got it set up so you can play the Nikki dress up game too! We can play together at the same time or anywhere, anytime!" she exclaimed excitedly, handing her the android phone. "All you have to do is type a username and password, and you're in!"

Ana looked at the phone helplessly, she truly had no clue what to do. In all honesty, the girl had spoken at super-sonic speed, and she'd only caught half of what she'd said, not nearly enough to get the general gist.

"Chloe, you're gonna have to show her," Ray murmured, dabbing his mouth with his napkin. He then crossed flatware over his plate.

"Oh, okay," Chloe swivel the screen toward her. "I'm gonna type my name here, look. The keyboard pops up and then down. Now I make up a secret password. See? I can do it for you if you want, just tell me the username you want."

"Any name?"

"Yeah. The more creative, the better...also, you don't want to use your real name."

The waiter came back to inquire about dessert.

"I want vanilla ice cream with a cherry on top," Chloe said without looking at the menu.

Ray looked tired. "Nothing for me. How about you, Anastasia?"

"No dessert for me, thank you," Ana said her gaze shifting from her father to the waiter.

"Okay. What do you want your username to be?" Chloe reiterated once the waiter was gone.

"I don't know."

"I can choose one for you...how about Desert Princess? Or Cherrypie, altogether no spaces? What's your favorite dessert?"

Ana considered it for a moment. Her father was no longer involved in the conversation, his attention returning to his mobile device. "I don't think I have one-"

"Oh, c'mon! Everyone has one!"

Ana felt the pressure. It was all too much sensory overload. For a minute there, she thought she would scream, but the feeling quickly passed. "How about you choose?"

Chloe seemed delighted. "I choose Cherrypie." She then typed and swiped screens. At last, she handed the phone to Ana.

The screen seemed like a circus of activity; filled with characters and images everywhere. This virtual world was a twisted caricature of the real world; Ana feared she would never be able to understand any of this. The thought filled her with dread; much like being stuck in an elevator for hours with no hope of ever getting rescued.

Thankfully, dessert came, giving Ana some time to collect herself mentally before she was required to interact with the child sitting beside her; keeping up with her was simply exhausting. Not ordering desert, allowed her time to people watch while sipping her water.

They made small talk. Ana had the impression her father was either distracted or bored. Chloe filled in the moments of silence with her bubbly chatter. At last, the waiter brought the check, and they left the restaurant. Ana was supremely glad to leave at least; she couldn't wait to get back to Christian's place and have a few moments to herself.

Ana rode in the backseat of her father's car. She stole a glance at her father, who was riding in the passenger seat, talking to his chauffeur. Beside her, Chloe was showing her a few features of the fashion game she was playing. It had a dressing room where a character could choose different pieces of clothing from the menu on the right hand of the screen. Chloe showed her how to click and swipe. Ana was amazed at how the clothing magically appeared on the character.

"That's a cute crop top!" Chloe squealed. "Oh, look, you got a super special achievement. It's a cool brooch that will go well with your style, cute and elegant!"

"What do I do now?" Ana asked.

"Just tap. And tap, and tap!"

Ana did as she was told even though she had no clue why.

"Whoo-hoo, another achievement, tap, and tap," Chloe demonstrated. "Tap again. Again, again. There you go! Now you can go and dress up...just tap back to get out of that screen. See the arrow? It takes you to the previous screen," she patiently explained. "Okay, now that you're in your bedroom you need to select a top and bottoms. Or you can choose a dress. But first, you must select the style. Tap at the top of the screen where it says TIP. Now tap elegant and cute."

Ana felt dizzy from all the tapping. The worst part was that she didn't get to look at anything long enough to consider at all the possibilities. When she tapped on 'dress,' she only saw one dress. "This dress is too short! Isn't there anything else Nikki can wear?

"Hmm...no. First of all, you're not Nikki, you're Cherrypie, remember?" Chloe sighed. "And since this is your first time playing this game, you don't have enough achievements to get more dresses. You're a newbie and newbies only get one piece of clothing in each category."

Ana blinked. It sure sounded a lot like her life story: The newbie who didn't have much.

"You gotta log in every day to claim your prizes and compete for events, and that's how you get your points so you can go to the store and get more clothes!"

"But...what do I have to do to claim my prizes?"

"Just log in every day and battle."

Ana was dumbfounded. None of this made my sense. "Battle?"

"Yeah, let me show you."

They were further into the game by the time they got to Escala. Ray insisted on accompanying her upstairs, so he and Chloe walked behind her past the doorman who just nodded in greeting. The building manager walked toward them and greeted her father.

"Yes, this is my daughter Anastasia," he smiled. "She's staying temporarily with Mr. Grey."

Ana wasn't about to let that slide. "What my father meant to say is that my stay at Mr. Grey's apartment is not temporary," Ana said resolutely. "We're newlyweds."

"Yes, Mr. Grey informed me," the man smiled nodding at Ana. "Welcome, Mrs. Grey."

"Thank you!" Ana smiled at the man.

"You didn't have to contradict me," Ray murmured sharply once the three of them boarded the elevator.

"Christian and I are preparing for the spousal interview," Ana reminded him. What if the doorman is asked to provide a statement to prove we are living together like husband and wife?" She exhaled deeply annoyed. It seemed like her father was determined to ruin everything they were trying to do.

Once they were inside the residence (Christian had left her a key by the door this morning before he left), Ray stood around awkwardly while Chloe showed Ana her phone. She had been playing her game even while riding the elevator.

"Oh, look at all the stuff you won! You got 30,000 points! That's pretty good for your first day! You think you'll play some more later tonight?" She said, handing Ana her phone back. The entire time she had been playing on Ana's phone and not hers.

Ana exhaled deeply. "You want to know the truth?"

Chloe nodded.

"I don't think so," she said matter-of-factly, and Chloe's face fell. "But thanks for showing me your game...and for giving me your old phone." She said sincerely.

Chloe smiled. "You're welcome. I guess we'll have to play more times together before you can play on your own."

Ray rolled his eyes. He was about to scold Chloe but then changed his mind. "Ana, we should do this again, go out to dinner together again."

Ana looked at her father as though she was seeing him for the first time. And in a way, she was. This was not the same man she remembered from her childhood when he visited her in Cuba. Or maybe he was and she just never truly saw him for what he was.

Realizing that Ana was not going to respond, Ray cleared his throat. "I guess we've better get going. Chloe has school tomorrow."

"Thank you for taking me out to dinner," Ana said coldly as though he was an acquaintance and not her father.

"I was about to ask you if you wanted something to drink, juice, soda?"

"No, we really ought to get going," Ray leaned in to kiss Ana's cheek. "We'll have to get you set-up with an email so that we can keep in touch," he hesitated thinking it would be a long time before Ana became proficient in using a phone and sending emails. "Oh, yes, almost forgot. I ordered you an I-phone, is due to arrive tomorrow or the day after, Federal Express. The package will have your name on it. Chloe and I will help you set it up."

Chloe threw her arms around Ana, surprising her. "Bye. I'm glad I have a big sister like you. You are nice."

Ana hugged her back, touched by the gesture. "I'm glad you're my little sister, Chloe." She told her. However, she was quite glad to see them both leave. She leaned against the door and let out a sigh of relief. Those two were emotionally draining.

* * *

By the time Christian arrived home an hour later, Ana had changed into a long brown skirt and a bright yellow blouse that looked in good shape. Not for the first time, she was glad her grandmother had packed the best of the best and left ALL of her bleach-stained clothes behind.

In preparation for Christian's arrival, she got busy in the kitchen. She didn't know whether or not Christian had had dinner, but in either case, she needed to have something ready for him to eat. She made another pot of rice, except this time she shredded a carrot and added it to the rice. Hmm. Maybe she should cook some veggies for variation. She looked in the fridge thinking she could cook a steak instead to go with the rice. But no such luck. But at least she got the leftover beans, and she could always make a new batch of ripe _tostones_ , and she knew Christian had loved those.

"Thanks for making dinner again," Christian smiled at her appreciatively as he sat down to eat. "Everything is delicious."

Ana smiled while rinsing the dishes in the sink. "Ana, leave those, please. When I'm done eating, we'll put them all in the dishwasher. I'll show you how it works. Come and sit with me and keep me company."

Ana hesitated before coming to sit at a bar-stool across from him.

"I have a surprise for you," he grinned. He really couldn't wait to show her what he'd gotten her. "But first, tell me how it went today with your father."

"Not fair!" Ana pouted playfully dropping her hands to her hips. "You tell me you got me a surprise and then you're going to make me wait!'

Christian laughed. "We'll plenty of time for that. Plus, it's good to save the best for last," he said pausing with his fork in mid-air. "So tell me... how did father dearest behave today?

Ana smiled at the light-heartedness of his tone. "I guess father was his usual self. And Chloe was both adorable and infuriating," she paused. She really didn't want to dwell on the negative, but she had no choice. "Oh, he tried his usual tricks, trying to get us separated. This time he told me he wanted me to go to Harvard and move into an apartment alone. And he's getting me a cell phone, it's coming in the mail." She paused again, and Christian narrowed his brow at that. "I told him that I wasn't going to listen to him bad-mouthing you and that I was leaving the restaurant if he insisted..."

Christian's eyes widened in surprise. He was proud of her for standing up to her father. And he really hadn't been too worried about Ray spilling the beans; he was confident Ana would understand once he got to tell her his side of the story. Tonight, however, he didn't want to do that. Tonight, he just wanted to spend time with Ana and enjoy himself; he was very much looking forward to her reaction to his gifts.

 **A/N:**

Kira: I' ve been watching Shawn Mendes' senorita video and now I can't get enough of him and Camila, LOL. So I think I will use them for inspiration for future chapters ;) btw, Camila' s Havana song partly inspired this story when I first posted it last year, I think I listened to this song way too much, haha.

XO


	13. Chapter 13

Chapter thirteen

Next, he cleared the table and showed her how to use the dishwasher. Ironically, he was learning while teaching her as he'd never had the need to use it before. But he was thinking it was a time saver especially with all the cooking she was doing.

Similarly, he shook his head at her question about ironing. Truth was, even if he owned an iron, he wouldn't know how to use it.

"Ironing is a very relaxing activity, ironing the nuns' habits was my favorite part day." She said. Her next thought was about Liliana and how much she missed her little arms around her neck.

Christian raised a brow, her outlook on life was so different from his. But that was not necessarily a bad thing; in a way, they complemented each other. Her uniqueness was refreshing.

Ana couldn't believe he didn't own what she considered an essential appliance. "How about a mop? Surely you've heard of those?"

He threw his head back and laughed. And we went to get a long tool with a swivel bottom, the same one that had mystified Ana hours before.

"I was wondering about that thing."

He smiled a long amused smile before retrieving a box of Swiffer wet cloths. Still smiling, he slid a damp cloth onto the swivel bottom and set it down onto the floor. Tada!

Ana wanted to wipe off the self-satisfied smirk off his face AND kiss those damn sexy lips of his; all too aware of the two seemingly contradictory acts.

He mopped a small square of the kitchen to demonstrate. "The beauty of these is that they're disposable, no need to rinse of haul around huge buckets of muddy water," he said indulging in a glimpse of her at the convent, twisting and wringing a mop into a bucket and then when finished, throwing the dirty water out the back door.

She folded her hands on her hips. "Okay, Mr. Know-it-all, what are you going to show me next? A robot that does ALL your household tasks for you?"

Christian left the room and came back with the I Robot Rumba 891 which could be connected to Wi-fi and Alexa. He set it on the floor, and it began sweeping. "This works on bare floors and carpets too," he said with a small shrug.

"This definitely rivals an episode of the Jetsons," she mumbled.

"Nothing rivals The Jetsons meet the Flintstones," he smirked, and she raised a playful brow. "I used to watch a lot of TV as a kid, you know, and learned a lot of TV trivia. Did you know that the Flintstones wasn't set in a pre-historic era but in a post-apocalyptic future? That explains why they were capable of creating a modified 20th-century technology, it's because they are us in the future, trying to reconstruct our fractured memories from the past ."

"Hmm...yeah. That certainly explains why the Flintstones had television and contemporary paper money, very advanced for a primitive society."

He nodded. "Well, at least we have something in common."

She cocked her head. "Me Flintstone, you Jetson?" She smirked.

"I mean, we both liked the same TV show. That's another brownie point for us..." he paused meaningfully, "for the interview," he added, giving her a long-smoldering look that brought a flush to her cheeks.

"I hope you're taking notes..."

"I don't need to take any notes, muchacha linda, (pretty girl) it's all in my head," he pointed to his head, meaning it as a flirt. "Are you ready for your surprise now?

She was unable to resist giving him the tiniest flirtatious smile. "You got something for me?" She mumbled stupidly.

He motioned for her to look behind the couch. She tiptoed over there like a kid on Christmas morning. Much to her surprise, there was a giant red sack reminiscent of the one Santa carries on his famous sleigh.

"Bring it over here," he said, taking a seat on the couch, he wanted to take a few pictures and capture her first reaction when she opened her presents.

Ana easily lifted the sac even though it was heavy and deposited it on the coffee table. Taking a peek inside, she saw that there were several shopping bags in different colors.

"All this... is for me?"

Christian nodded slightly. He hated shopping, but he had truly enjoyed going to the mall and shopping for her.

"Don't be scared to reach in there!" He teased her.

The first bag was from Macy's. It contained a hairdryer, a flat iron, a curling iron, and various hair Paul Mitchell hair products the sales lady insisted every woman needs. They included Awapuhi duo shampoo and conditioner, gloss drops, finishing spray, Invisible Wear Boomerang Styling Mist, Super-skinny Relaxing Balm, Ultimate Wave (Forms, separates and adds loads of texture to create sexy, tousled beach waves) and the Super-sculpt styling glaze. According to the sales lady, the average American woman used at least twice as many hair products on a regular basis. It had been a real eye-opener for him; he had no idea women needed this much stuff.

Ana was overwhelmed. She opened her mouth to say something but found herself unable to speak except for a few interjections.

He snapped a candid picture reading the back of the Ultimate Wave bottle. "Open another one," he prompted her.

The next bag, also from Macy's, contained four different style dresses, seven tops and four pair of jeans. Again, he'd counted on the advice of the sales lady otherwise he would have had no idea what to buy.

"What's the matter? This is only like a starter kit. Anything you don't like you can always exchange it for something else you like better. I'm hoping that there's at least a couple of things there you like."

Ana's jaw dropped lower, appalled at the idea of exchanging the things he'd gifted her. "Wh-what? I—-I love all this!" She stuttered. She was particularly fascinated by a steel-colored tiered dress and jacket. The length of the dress was just right ( right above the knee). It was completely stunning; it was elegant and yet free-flowing. She'd never owned something so beautiful in her entire life. "I love this, thank you!" She twirled for him holding the dress under her chin.

"You're welcome," he grinned while snapping a picture of her looking so radiant and vivacious.

"I'd like to see how it fits," he said even though he was sure it was a perfect fit.

And it was. Fifteen minutes later, she returned from the bedroom wearing the tiered dress and jacket and with her hair pinned in a messy bun. She sashayed toward him, smiling, looking more confident than ever. He whistled the minute he saw her, his phone immediately forgotten.

"You look absolutely stunning!"

"You really think it looks that good?" She humbly asked, smoothing her hands over the fabric. Who was she kidding? A dress like this made her feel like a woman, like a well-put-together woman without being overdone.

"This dress was made just for you, Anastasia," he murmured softly like a caress, and she beamed at him taking note of the softness in his eyes.

"There's more!" He motioned toward the area where she'd found the red sac.

She bit her lip slightly, conflicted about accepting more.

"There are no strings attached, I promise. I'm doing this for selfish reasons, I just wanted to see you happy, that's all."

She smiled sweetly. His answer seemed to satisfy her. Yeah, maybe it had been the right thing to say.

Taking another look around the area, Ana discovered five shoeboxes lined up in a tower. How she missed that was beyond her. Shoes. Lord knew she needed shoes! There was one pair of black Mary Janes, one pair of sneakers, and two pairs of sandals. The sandals were SAS; one was a pair of strappy wedges, bone ivory colored, and the other was black leather also strappy. Both had small heels; he'd figured Ana was not the type to go crazy over high heels. In addition to all that there were also a pair of leather boots were knee-length. They were amazing. Ana let out a squeal of delight when she tried them on, she'd always wondered what it would be like owning a pair like these.

"These are my size," was all she could muster to say. Clearly, he'd done his homework.

Christian laughed. "There's more, __muchacha!"__

In a daze, Ana returned to the couch and pulled out a silky bag from Victoria Secret out of the red sac. It contained about twenty pairs of underwear (small), different styles and colors, most of them laced. Her cheeks reddened while inspecting them, especially because she knew Christian was watching her. There were also ten-night gowns; two of them were t-shirt style comfy and warm. Six of them were satin button-up shirts with matching short boxers. The other two were racy sexy lingerie. Her first reaction was to look at them quickly and then stuff them back in the bag.

"I got you some bras too, although I wasn't absolutely sure of the size," he said with a smirk. This morning while she was sleeping, he'd gone through her things and found that she only had two bras. They were of different sizes which left him puzzled as to which one was the closest to her real size.

Indeed, there were three bras size 32 and of different cup sizes; two of them traditional push-ups. The other one was black with a soft lined see-through fabric.

Ana met his gaze through her lashes, and he was struck by what he saw in her eyes; a mix of her extreme youth and sudden maturity.

"I don't know what to say. This is so much!" She muttered, her cheeks now suddenly pale with shock at the thought of all the beautiful things he'd gifted her.

He slid closer to her and studied her through hooded eyes. Next thing, he was stroking her cheek ever so softly, "I'm glad you love the stuff I got you." In all honesty, he couldn't wait to see her wearing the silky lingerie to bed.

"But you know what I love most of all?"

"What?" she murmured breathlessly.

"Kissing you," he said, giving her a long-smoldering stare. It was quite forward on his part, but she had this wild effect on him, especially when she bit her lip like she was doing right now.

She continued biting her lip nervously. "I love kissing you too," she finally admitted, feeling both safe and deliciously vulnerable. Boy, when she let her guard down, she really let her guard down.

They both looked away for a second, and when their eyes met again, they both knew they were going to start kissing in precisely three seconds. One. Two. Three.

Christian' mouth came down hard on hers. One of his hands cupped chin while the other one crept around her waist, turning her toward him. He nipped at her bottom lip with his teeth before sliding his tongue into her mouth. She didn't want this to ever end, but her boots were really pinching her legs and feet, so she tickled him around his arm to get his attention.

"Hmm...what?"

"These boots are pinching me, I have to take them off," she murmured.

When you're in the middle of kissing, anything said sounds hot and intimate even if it's mundane stuff about footwear. Christian pulled away and gave her some room so she could take them off.

Ana quickly unzipped her boots under his gaze, and he helped her pull them off and tossed them aside impatiently. When she turned to reach for him, she suddenly found herself lying on her back on the white rug with him half-lying on top of her. She felt his ribs digging into her, but she didn't mind at all, especially when he started nibbling on her neck and stroking her collarbone softly with his fingertips, sending delicious shivers down her spine.

"We're gonna kiss only, right?" She searched his gaze anxiously. She didn't want to kill the mood, but she was worried that if some clear boundaries were not set things were going to get out of hand.

"Don't worry," he murmured with a sexy drawl. "There are a thousand things I want to do with you that involve just kissing you."

And it was true. Christian knew how to make kissing the most exciting activity in the world. He went back to kissing her neck and then smoothed all her hair back from her face before planting little butterfly kisses along her forehead, eyebrows, and eyelids just before reaching her mouth again. And when he kissed her mouth, it was as if time came to a still as he brushed to the depths of her soul.

Eventually, they both had to come back for air. Christian got up to get two glasses of water and turn up the heat as it was getting a little cold for her, he could tell. It was now a little after 11 pm.

After downing half his glass, he announced he was taking a shower. He was really hoping that in the meantime, she'd slide on something cute and sexy to bed.

And she did. When he came out of the shower, he found her in bed with a small paperback, clad in a silky button-down top and boxer min-shorts. He eagerly pulled the covers back so he could take a better look. WOW!

Ana held her breath, letting the book slide out of her hand and onto the floor. He looked gorgeous with his wet tousled hair wearing nothing but a pair of pajama pants. The sight of his bare muscled chest made her heart wild. Once again, they both knew they'd be kissing again in three seconds flat.

The kiss shot a wave of lightning through Christian, he grew hard as soon as she opened her lips and clung to him with a tiny sigh. He held her close underneath him, relishing the feel of her breasts through the thin fabric, crushed against his chest. One tug at the buttons of her top and they all snapped open, allowing him instant access to her naked breasts. When he cupped her breast, she moaned deeply, and he reacted with unrestrained primal need. He kneaded the firm, round flesh, brushing his thumb against the tight nipple. She moaned again as his fingers started sliding downwards.

This was dangerous! The words filled her foggy brain as his long fingers teased the band of fabric at her inner thighs, sending bullets of fiery pleasure through her. Desire warred against shock as she realized how far their kisses had taken her; to the brink of giving herself to this man, this man who as far as she knew, planned on discarding her as soon as they passed their immigration interview.

Her hand clamped his as he moved to make his way underneath the fabric of her shorts. He froze, his eyes locking with hers, his other hand still cupping her breast.

"I think it's time to stop," she said, her voice, a frayed thread of sound. And yet he heard and immediately understood. Ana watched as realization dawned. His eyes lost the unfocused glitter and widened just a fraction. A second later, he'd backed away to his side of the bed, his hands slick against his hair as if forcefully willing himself not to touch her again tonight; otherwise, he would be unable to contain himself.


	14. Chapter 14

Chapter fourteen

Hours passed.

Ana lay in blankets trying to drift off to sleep, but all she could do was think of was his bare chest and being in his arms. Her thoughts embarrassed her. You were not supposed to feel this way unless you were married AND in a happy relationship. She yearned of him making love to her, touching every part of her body and especially down there. These thoughts of him felt so right. __That's because you're in love with him.__ The thought came out of nowhere, and in the darkness of the night, there was nowhere to hide. The mortifying part was, how could something so wrong also feel so right?

She rolled onto her side, facing him, resting her cheek on her hand as she studied him at her leisure. Everything about him was pleasing to the eye, especially those gray eyes of his which for the moment, lay behind dark lashes. He looked peaceful, one arm tucked under his head, stretched out on the bed, barely leaving any room for her. But she didn't mind at all; she loved having him close. She had slept so well that night when they'd slept on the couch with his arms wrapped around her.

She must have fallen asleep at some point, she couldn't remember.

"You're certainly up early," he said with his eyes still closed.

Ana opened her eyes wider in surprise. He had caught her completely off-guard. The sun is not out yet; it was barely a little after six. She had the feeling she had not slept a wink all night, and yet she felt oddly rested.

"Yes. Go back to sleep," she mumbled, pushing the blankets back. When she attempted to get out of bed, Christian reached for her, gently urging her to stay with him.

Ana cautiously settled back under the covers.

"What were you thinking about just now?" Christian's voice was raspy with sleep.

 _ _Oh, Christian, I want to slip my fingers through your hair and stroke you like a cat.__ Shocked that her own thoughts were beginning to betray her, she quickly spoke _ _.__ "I was thinking of home."

"You can call your grandmother anytime you want to, Anastasia. Please don't give it a second thought. Okay?"

"Okay. " She appreciated his kindness. Not that she was planning on taking advantage of it, but she did feel better knowing she could call mami anytime she wanted.

He fully opened his eyes, drinking in the sight of her, just in time to catch her girlish smile. He could easily grow accustomed to waking up to the sight of her every morning for the rest of his days if she would have him that is. And there was every chance in the world she would reject him as soon as she found out about his shameful past, even if she intellectually understood he'd never meant to cause any harm.

All of a sudden, he became aware of his need to look good in her eyes. He'd never been one to care much what others thought of him, but he cared what SHE thought of him. He reached for her, letting his fingers trace the outline of her jaw, before letting his palm rest softly against her face.

Ana closed her eyes, and she instinctively leaned her face against his touch. He knew then she would only give him her body after he had given her his heart.

Maybe she didn't have to find out about his past just yet. Did she?

"Ay, __muchacha linda__ ," he sighed a tortured sigh that resonated deep in her soul. He wanted her now more than ever, but at the same time, he didn't want to take advantage.

Falling under his spell, she instinctively reached to touch his arm. His gaze immediately softened, and her hand strayed to his chest. At the feel of her fingers against his skin, Christian drew in a breath, the lower half of him growing hard. He knew Ana noticed, but she didn't shy away. She continued the bold tour of his chest, grazing his skin with her palm, then raking downwards with her fingernails.

Taking in the sweetness of her scent, he couldn't stop his labored breathing, couldn't stop the bunching and the flexing beneath her touch. Every inch of him throbbed painfully. What kind of exquisite torture was this? And just when he thought he would lose his mind with need and longing, she drew closer and her gaze fell to his lips.

He took in a tortured breath. "I want you, I want you so much it hurts," he murmured, surprising them both.

Before she could answer, he covered her mouth with his. She felt a jolt of heat; she couldn't stop her own body from responding anymore than she could stop her heart from beating. While they kissed, she reached up to his hair, his copper locks curling slightly over her fingers. Touching his ear, she fingered the velvety the underside of his earlobe as though she already knew this erroneous zone was one he particularly enjoyed, then plunged her hands again into his hair, enjoying the texture.

Desperately wanting to reciprocate, his lips sought to nibble on her earlobe, satisfied to feel her shiver. His hand strayed down to her thigh.

"Do you trust me?"

Her eyes widened as he pulled away to look into her eyes, his hand now resting in the apex between her thighs.

"I promise you I will not do anything you don't want me to do," he took in a deep breath. "I just want to touch you, Anastasia. I want to give you pleasure, that's all."

She bit her lip, and he narrowed his eyes. "Christian, I-" she mumbled, uncertain of what to do next.

"Have you ever touched yourself there?"

Her cheeks turned bright pink. "No." She said, but something in her eyes betrayed her.

"Did it feel good?"

"Ah..." she hesitated. "I don't know..."

"I'm going to give you a mind-blowing orgasm, Anastasia...you'll feel like you're exploding inside... in a good way of course."

Ana found herself lost in his gaze, in that wild promise of his. It was shocking. Her pussy was throbbing like crazy, and her panties were soaking wet. And while she'd read a few trashy romance novels, she'd never experienced an actual orgasm.

"I don't know—" she muttered. If there was something she was absolutely certain of was that she really didn't want him to take his hand off her clitoris. Her entire body was humming with a wild desire she'd never known before, and she was irrevocably hooked.

"Do you trust me?" He reiterated, certain he'd be able to stop when she told him to stop. "I will not cross that line unless you ask me to."

"But...how about you?" She asked, all too aware of his erection.

"Don't worry about me, I'll be okay," he said as he lowered her shorts but left her panties on, satisfied at her sweet wetness. Oh, yes, he could make her come like that in two seconds flat, he challenged himself. All he wanted was to see the look on her face when she experienced orgasm for the first time. The perverse side of him was hoping that once she'd experienced that, she'd want it again and again. He continued to stroke her clit through the thin fabric of her underwear, his fingers acting as a natural vibrator, applying steady pressure and making her squirm and wiggle. The fabric was so thin and damp he was sure to her it was as if she was wearing nothing.

She was already moving against him, those sexy little whimpers of hers, driving him insane. His mind was full of her, her shape, her scent. And he wanted more. He wanted to rip her panties and taste her.

Her whimpers became moans, and her moans became quick mindless gasps.

"Wh-what's happening?" She barely managed to say.

"You're getting ready to come, that's what," he smirked at her, his finger continued to tantalize her swollen pussy lips. "Just go with it, embrace it. Don't fight it. That's it. That's it. Close your eyes and let go."

She did as she was told, and when she finally erupted beneath him, he wrapped his arms around her and held her gaze. He would never forget that look of surprise and wonder mixed with organic pleasure. And he pressed his head to her belly and shuddered with her, his lips pressing kisses to her bare skin.

And he wanted more. He wanted to take her right then and there and bury himself deep inside of her but he couldn't. He couldn't. He'd given her his word. He couldn't cross that line unless he was willing to commit himself to her one-hundred perfect. Anything less than that would be completely unacceptable.

And he wasn't sure he wanted that.

He pulled away from her and dashed to the bathroom. He needed a cold shower. Or a hot shower. Whichever.

When he came out of the shower twenty minutes later, he found Anastasia was gone. The bed was perfectly made. The first rays of the sun were peeking through the partially open curtains but no sign of her.

He found her in the kitchen dressed in jeans, fixing eggs and bacon for breakfast.

"Good morning," she said politely casting a nervous eye in his direction before returning her attention to the skillet. "I hope you slept well."

"I did. Although waking up was the best part," he said. There was a playful glint in his eyes and a hint of a mischievous smile. He was toying with her, amusing himself. If she thought he was going to sweep what happened in the bedroom under the proverbial rug, she had another thing coming.

Ana was tired of playing the part of the skittish kitten. Still, she was unable to make a quick come back remark. In fact, for an embarrassingly long time, she was unable to speak. That smile of his was something else. It seemed to clear all the air from her lungs and shaped it into a hard knot in her throat.

As he moved about in the kitchen and started setting the table, she struggled to clear away the knot and prayed for the return of her speech and her mental faculties.

"I got work this morning," he said as they sat down for breakfast. "Before I go, I can show you how to use the phone your little sister gave you," he offered, taking a bite of his bacon.

"Okay," she said with a small shrug. She failed to see why everyone seemed so much into their mobile devices, but if she was going to navigate this world successfully, she'd better get on with the program.

They sat together on the couch with their phones. All too aware of his closeness, Ana sat as far away as possible, wanting to avoid a repeat from the situation in the bedroom. Clearly, his proximity did unexplainable things to her.

He got busy on his phone and told her he was set up text messaging. They did a walkthrough on how to type messages back and forth.

"You know how to type?"

Ana nodded. "I took two typing classes in secretarial school."

He raised a brow. "You went to secretarial school?" He cocked his head. "Didn't you also take a translation course?"

"I did both."

"Were these elective classes?"

She looked confused. "I suppose...nobody forced me into these classes, it was completely voluntary."

He let out a laugh. He then went on to explain the high school system of core classes and classes that you choose from a list of electives.

"Okay, I think I understand. In Cuba, all high school classes are core classes. The secretarial and translation classes I took were separate, I took them during my last year in high school."

Christian was amazed at how she found the time to do all that. "Senior year. The last year of high school is called the senior year."

"Oh, okay."

Suddenly he wanted to know EVERYTHING about her days in high school. "In high school, many students attend both a junior and a senior prom," he said, and she nodded.

"Yes, I've heard about the prom. You're supposed to dress fancy."

"Do they have something like that in Cuba?"

"No, there are no school-related dances. Although there are quinceanera parties for girls on their fifteenth birthday."

"Did you have a quinceanera party?" He asked, holding his breath in anticipation of her answer. In his mind, he pictured Ana dancing with different guys in tuxedos. His blood nearly boiled at the mere thought of these young men being close enough to kiss her.

"Yes."

"How many guys did you dance with? Did you kiss any of them?" He impulsively asked before he could catch himself.

Ana stared at him in shock. Yes, she had kissed one of the boys she'd danced with who later turned out to be a jerk. "I went to many parties that year..." She answered vaguely.

"That doesn't answer my question," he shot back with shocking intensity. It thrilled her to no end. "I bet none of them were good kissers."

Sensing dangerous territory, she stood up and stood nervously by the window, pretending she was suddenly interested in the scenery.

Shit! Now he'd managed to scare her off. A notification came in, and he glanced at the time on his phone. He really was going to be late for his meeting if he didn't leave immediately. Screw the meeting. This was far more important.

"Ana," he mumbled, tapping the cushion beside him. "Come here. Forget what I said. I still need to show you how to send text messages."

She hesitated before coming to sit beside him. Her emotions were all over the place, and she was trying her darndest not to let it show.

"Well, okay typing on a phone is different from typing on a computer..."

"Yeah. I notice how you type with your thumb and how it flies across the screen," she smiled sweetly.

"Some people type with both thumbs, some use the hunt and peck method. Teenagers have their own way, I think they memorize the order of the letters...we could ask Chloe." He paused and leaned over closer, his sudden proximity taking her breath away. "You want to give it a try? Type something right here."

"Hmm...what do I type?" She asked stupidly. He smelled heavenly; a subtle mix of soap and grassy aftershave. The scents tickled her nose and warmed her lungs.

"Anything," he shrugged. "Just say Hi...dear husband, your wish is my command," he teased. In the next moment, he contemplated what it would be like to receive such a text from her.

She was initially stumped but quickly recovered. Her eyes brightened with a new idea. "I know what I'll type!" She paused meaningfully. "Husband of mine, you're so naive." She said, not lifting a finger. She wasn't typing that. She was just having a little fun.

"I like the sound of that!"

His lazy grin started her heart racing.

She cocked her head, smiling. "That you're naive?"

He suddenly cupped her cheek in his hand, and they locked eyes. "Nah. I liked you calling me husband."

"In that case...husband, husband, husband!" Ana couldn't help a tiny giggle when she said that.

And he marveled how she could be bold and flirtatious, and coy and bashful, all at the same time. It was an intriguing combination. He stared deeply into her eyes and shook his head. He wanted to kiss her again but forced himself to resume the task at hand.

"It's getting late, and I have a meeting."

Ana swallowed a disappointed sigh. Next, she tried typing on the screen but was immediately frustrated when she kept pushing the letter key next to the one she wanted. She furrowed her brow. "How do I erase?"

Christian showed her, and she struggled to type her message. "Okay...I think I got it typed!" She beamed.

"Now hit send, and it should appear on my screen," he said, staring at his own screen. He couldn't wait to see what she'd typed. He felt like when he was back in middle school, waiting to see whether the girl he liked, liked him back.

She typed: husband, husband, husband in all caps.

He flashed her a smile, and she smiled back before lowering her eyes coyly.

She received the following message from him: Wife: Now you can send me messages with grocery items or anything else you want me to pick up."

Ana let out a deep sigh. She was amazed; they were communicating in real-time!. "You will be all the way at work, and you will still get my messages instantly?"

He nodded. All of a sudden, he wished he could stay home with her all day and teach her everything she needed to know. "Will you be alright here all by yourself all day?" He asked, his brow raised in concern.

She raised a brow mirroring his. "Yes."

"That reminds me, almost forgot," he tapped his head. "I scheduled my cleaning lady to come tomorrow between 10 and 2pm. The company name is Molly Maid. She will be wearing a uniform with the company's name. She will show you her ID. Open the door only after you have verified her identity."

"Wh-what? What am I supposed to do while she's here? Sit around and watch?"

He took a moment to think things through. It occurred to him right then and there that she could take some college classes online. It would solve the problem of her having something to do during the day while he was working. Grey, you're thinking about this as though this arrangement was long term, as though their marriage was real.

"Ana. I really don't want you to keep thinking of yourself as the cleaning lady. You're my wife. Think about how this is going to look to the immigration officers. It will appear I'm exploiting you, that I brought you to this country as my cleaning slave," he said, half-serious, half-joking, eliciting a tiny smile from her. "And we don't want them to think that, do we? We want them to believe ours is a real marriage," he paused to gauge her reaction. She was nodding her head in agreement. "I was thinking you can start taking college classes online during the day." He paused again, thinking how much he would like to stay home and show her how easy it was.

She cocked her head, puzzled. "Online classes? But how?"

"It's just like attending classes in person except you'll be here right at home. I would set you up with a laptop that has a built-in camera. You will be able to see your instructor and classmates in real-time."

Ana exhaled. Wow. That was mind bowling.

"Anyway, send me a list," he said in an effort to wrap things up.

"I don't think I will message you a grocery list," she said after a long while. The idea felt really so foreign to her. Ironically, the only foreigner here was her. Funny how all these years, growing up, she'd felt like an American, it was her birthright. But then, coming here had been such a humbling experience. She had been so wrong in her assumptions; time and time again over the last three days, it had become painfully evident how much of a foreigner she really was.

"I would like to go to the store with you." There was so much out there for her to see and explore. Besides she was getting tired of being cooped up in the house. All of a sudden, she had an intense longing for home, for her grandmother, her friends, and everyone she knew.

He noticed at once her change of mood. "Of course. We'll go out tonight after I get home."

That seemed to make her a little happier.

He then grabbed a few papers from the coffee table and put them in his briefcase, getting ready to leave. When he looked up again, their eyes locked. But then, suddenly, a notification sound alerted him, and he became deeply immersed in his phone, his fingers flying across the screen. It wasn't until five minutes later that he told her what it was all about.

"My sister Mia is in town."

"I didn't know you had a sister."

"We've estranged. I'm guessing mom and dad are refusing to help her out this time and I'm her last resort."

"Your mom and dad? I thought they were... gone?"

Christian exhaled. "It's a long story, I'll tell you more another time. Right now, what matters is that she's coming to visit us tonight. Is it okay if we postpone our shopping for tomorrow night?"

"Of course."

He quickly rose to his feet. "I gotta go," he leaned in and kissed the top of her head before dashing out the door.

….

 ** **Two hours later****

The doorbell rang while Ana was busy in the kitchen. The sound initially startled her, but she quickly recovered. Maybe it was their neighbor coming to welcome them home. He or she must have realized Christian was back from his month-long absence. The thought cheered her up. In Cuba, neighbors were often closer than family, and she longed to make that kind of connection. She only wished she'd remembered to ask Christian to tell her more about their neighbors.

Ana walked to the door and looked through the small round peephole. A blonde woman standing there, she looked professional dressed in a white-collar shirt and dark pantsuit. There was no way she was the cleaning lady. Ana distinctly remembered Christian telling her the woman from Molly Maid would be wearing a uniform, and she wasn't coming over until tomorrow anyway.

"Hello? Who is it?"

Instead of answering, the other woman took a step back and looked furtively around her before bending down to slide an envelope under the door.

Ana picked up the envelope, lifted the seal, and pulled out a notecard which read:

I'm Elena Lincoln. Looking for Mr. Christian Grey.


	15. Chapter 15

****A/N:**** I apologize for all mistakes in this chapter, I only did light editing. You probably noticed that the penthouse is different from the books it's smaller and doesn't take up the entire floor. The elevator is in the hallway outside the apartment and security is located in the lobby and it's for the entire building.

* * *

Chapter fifteen

"Mr. Grey is not here," Ana said while looking through the peephole. The blonde woman shifted, looking around her furtively as though she didn't want to draw attention to herself.

"Open the door," the woman mouthed the words voicelessly, cupping her hands to her mouth in a secretive manner. Her behavior certainly raised a red flag.

Ana hesitated, remembering her grandmother's tales about opening the door to strangers.

"I'm sorry. He's not here, but I can take a message."

Through the peephole, the blonde woman's face grew grotesque, Ana was not sure how much of it was real or an optical illusion.

"Open the door, I need to talk to you face to face!" The woman muttered in a hissing whisper.

At once, Ana retreated from the door, she needed to trust her instincts and ignore the persistent knocking. To distract herself, she immediately got busy with a duster, determined to dust every nook and cranny around the apartment.

 _ _I need to tell Christian! Yes!__ __He told me to text message him, remember?__

Oh, no! She thought as she turned the phone screen on. It had all looked so easy when Christian had shown her how to text. The problem was, the screen no longer looked like what she remembered. Looking at the icons on the bottom of the screen was confusing. Some of them she could readily identify: a camera, a phone, and the Gmail icon which Christian had mentioned. But the circle with six dots and the colorful circle one were mystifying. Maybe she ought to try that one and see what happens. When she did just that, the words: GOOGLE appeared big on the screen. Underneath it, the words ' search or type web address' appeared. __Ay, Dios__ ( Oh, God!) She let out a sigh of exasperation, she wanted to send a text message not surf the internet!

When she tapped inside the search bar, a cursor appeared , and the keyboard popped up. Okay. She spent a few precious minutes typing, and deleting letters, and experimenting. Well, look at that. Typing the words: How to type text messages, she got several related suggestions.

How to type text message on apple watch.

How to type text messages on a computer.

How to type text messages faster.

None of these was what she was looking for.

She was now stuck. She didn't know how to get out of that screen and return to the previous screen. Ugh! This was so incredibly frustrating! If she could only call Christian and ask him what to do. But no. Somehow she had to navigate her way back to the screen that had the phone icon, and then tap on it in order to make a call! This stupid smartphone was so useless!

Wait! Luckily there was a __real phone around here!__ At once, Ana retrieved the landline telephone that sat on the side table next to the couch. At least here was something she could do. Dial Christian's number. She let out a sigh of relief. This phone seemed to her more like a real phone than the handheld device she'd been using.

* * *

…...

"Ana? What is it?"

"Christian! There's someone at the door. She won't go away. She keeps on knocking."

"What? Who is this?"

"She slipped a note under the door. It says her name is Elena Lincoln."

"Ana, whatever you do, don't open the door. Okay? Promise me?" His tone sounded urgent. "That woman is not a friend. She's persona non-grata."

"Yes, yes, I promise."

"Sit tight. I'm calling security to escort her out of the building. I'm going to hang up and call them. I will call you back right after I talk to them. Okay?"

"Okay. But...what does she want?"

"She's someone from my past who's nursing a grudge against me...you know what that means, nursing a grudge?"

Ana exhaled. "Yes I know. But what did you do to her?"

"It's a long story. Can't go into it right now. You're going to have to trust me here, that woman is up to no good."

* * *

…...

After speaking with the security manager over the phone, Christian called Ana back to reassure her that everything was going to be alright.

His next call was to Mia. Okay, this was probably not the best of ideas but desperate times called for desperate measures.

"Hi, little sis. Where are you right now?"

"I'm driving, if I don't make any more stops, I can be in Seattle in another four hours." There was a pause. "Hey, have you thought about my proposal? I'm not asking for free money, Just give me a chance. I can clean your house, run errands for you. PLEASE!"

"There is something you can do for me temporarily, but if you mess this up, I will not give you another chance."

Mia's voice rose in excitement. "What are you thinking of?"

"You're probably the last person I should ask, but I need you," he exhaled deeply before going on to tell her about his traveling to Cuba, his marriage to Anastasia, and their current predicament with Elena.

"Christian! I can't believe you married her and didn't even tell us!" Mia's voice thundered.

Christian decided to ignore her tone. "Can you get past that now? I need you to be Ana's companion for a short while, can you do that?"

"Of course!"

"Can you head over there as soon as possible? I won't be home until later this evening." He asked, wishing for the tenth time he'd invested in a CCTV security system instead of having to depend on the security guard stationed at the entrance of his building. "Also, can you take her out shopping and get her whatever she needs? I'll pay-pal you some money right now."

* * *

Later in the afternoon

By the time Mia arrived at Escala, Ana had been waiting for her with lunch and freshly squeezed lemonade. Minutes prior to her arrival, Christian had called her to give her the heads up. Security was to let her in the building once she'd shown them her ID.

Ana shook Mia's hand and smiled, " nice to meet you, Mia."

"Nice to meet you too," Mia answered, her bubbly personality and carefree shining through. She was dressed in black and wore three-inch-high wedge heels. Her makeup was heavy on mascara and blue eye shadow.

Ana opened the door wider for her.

The two women looked at one another.

"So you're the girl who got my brother to tie the knot," Mia said, her expression hard to read.

Ana didn't know how to respond to that. She didn't know exactly what Christian had said about their relationship.

"I guess that's me," she replied with a smile.

"I was just using that as an icebreaker," she chuckled.

After that, they talked for close to two hours, smoothly changing topics, barely staying long enough in one single subject. Ana learned that Mia had just turned twenty-one and that right out of high school, she'd decided to take a couple of years to find herself. During that time, she had traveled extensively, her last stop had been her parents' home in Italy. They'd had a 'disagreement' of some sort and Mia had decided to return to the States.

Mia was curious about Cuba and had asked Ana all sorts of questions, genuinely interested in what life was like in that part of the world.

"You know your English is nearly perfect," Mia cocked her head, thinking. She could still detect a slight Spanish accent. "My brother says I should take you out shopping. So grab your purse and let's hit the road."

Ana retreated to the bedroom and returned a few minutes later wearing one of her new outfits and her small leather handbag.

"Wow. That's a really tiny bag," Mia said, cringing a little, doing her best not to let it show. "How do you fit everything in there?"

"I don't. I just carry what's absolutely necessary."

"We'll have to get you a new purse! Maybe one for me too. One can never have too many purses," she chuckled. "This is going to be fun!

Ana loved the idea of going to the mall, she could certainly use a new purse. She hoped to find something nice at a reasonable price. Back Cuba, she had saved one thousand pesos for emergencies which she had traded at the currency exchange at the airport for a grand total of 60 dollars. She didn't know how much a new purse would cost, but she hoped she wouldn't need to spend more than a third of that amount.

"What are you looking for?"

"My hairpin..." Ana looked around the side table, around the couch and in between the cushions. "I thought I left it on the table."

Mia shrugged one shoulder. "Just go get another one."

"I don't have another one like it. This is a special hairpin." Ana sighed, feeling discouraged. This was the same hairpin that Christian had given her the day they first met.

"Oh, I'm sorry. Tell you what, at the mall there's a store, we'll get you a few hairpins and other accessories," Mia said in a chirpy tone. "Let's go."

….

At the mall

"This woman... Elena. Who is she?"

Mia hesitated. "My brother didn't tell you?"

 _ _No. As a matter of fact, he's told me very little about himself.__ Ana shook her head. It was maddening how he shut down every time she tried to get him to open up. She sighed deeply. No, this was not something she would be sharing with Mia.

"He and Elena were business partners years ago. Christian discovered some illegal stuff and called the authorities. She did two years in jail and now is out on probation," Mia shook her head in bewilderment. "As far as I know, there is a restraining order in place forbidding her to have further contact with Christian."

Right then, they were walking by Nordstrom Rack, and Mia made a beeline for the women's clothing section. Ana followed closely behind.

"I don't understand," Ana shrugged her shoulders in defeat. She was having a hard time following her words. Mia had spoken too fast, so fast that it almost sounded like a foreign language. For the first time, Ana considered what it would have been like had she arrived from Cuba speaking little or no English. If that were her situation, she would probably have crawled under a rock in despair at this point.

"I'm sorry," Mia said half-distractedly while checking out a clearance rack of designer clothing. "I just realized you're not familiar with our justice system. "Okay, let me see how I can explain. Hmm...Elena was found guilty by a judge who sentenced her to two years in jail and another two years on probation. That means that even though she's now free, she must still report to an officer of the court who makes sure she doesn't repeat her past crimes or fulfill the terms of her release.

While Mia talked, Ana scanned her surroundings. She'd never been in a store this big. She discreetly studied the other women near her. They seemed too self-absorbed looking at the merchandise to make eye contact or acknowledge her existence unless she stood in their way, in which case they mumbled an impersonal 'excuse me,' without so much than a glance in her direction. Everyone seemed distracted and in a rush to move from one clothing rack to the next as though they were participating in a timed race or marathon of some sort.

"Did you say restraining order?"

"Yeah. A restraining order is a court mandate, a condition to her release she's not to have further contact with Christian."

"But...she was looking for him?"

"I know, it's unbelievably idiotic on her part. But clearly, the woman has been blinded by revenge to her own detriment," she chuckled. "All Christian has to do is report her to her parole officer. He even knows the guy assigned to her since he works with law enforcement."

Ana shook her head. Was this Elena woman for real? How stupid could she possibly be? She even left a handwritten note incriminating herself. It was as if this woman WANTED Christian to know she'd been to his apartment.

Mia threw in four tops and two pairs of pants in the stores' shopping basket. "Ana, do you see anything you like?"

Once again, Ana was faced with way too many choices. She took a deep breath and let it out slowly. There was no way she could possibly choose something out of the million cute things available even if she wanted to. Besides, looking at the price tags, she had already decided that anything here was way more than she wanted to spend. "That's okay. I don't need any clothes right now. I could use a new purse, though."

Mia raised a brow. "Are you for real? Christian said to get you anything you wanted," she looked at Ana curiously. "He told me a little bit about your father...about your little predicament and also that he's made of money?" The last part was more of a statement than a question.

Ana didn't like the sound of that. First of all, there was a clear difference between wanting something and needing something. She clearly didn't need any new clothes at the moment. And as to her father being made of money, she really didn't give a damn. She would rather have his love than his money. Thank goodness he hadn't tried giving her money or she would have thrown it back in his face.

"My father's money is his, not mine."

"Maybe I should clarify something for you," Mia murmured, taking Ana by the arm and guiding her over to the women's handbag section of the store. "My brother lives comfortably but is not wealthy by any stretch of the imagination. Do you know what I mean?"

"No. What is exactly your point, Mia?" Ana asked, scanning the assortment of purses on display, feeling overwhelmed once again.

Instead of answering, Mia picked up a random handbag, then another and then another. At last, she chose one and then moved over to the next display and choose yet another handbag while Ana watched her with a question mark on her face.

"What do you think? Isn't this gorgeous?" She asked, holding up a studded Michael Kors leather shoulder bag. Ana nodded. Mia lifted the other purse in her hand so Ana could take a closer look. "This is one is really cute. Don't you think? It's a Calvin Klein. Which one do you think costs more?" When Ana didn't immediately answer, she added: "Which one do you like more?"

Ana shook her head. Both purses were gorgeous. At last, she pointed at the Michael Kors handbag.

Mia was initially disappointed at Ana's choice, but she quickly recovered. "Okay. The Michael Kors is $400, and the Calvin Klein is $1700."

WOW! Ana's jaw dropped. This had to be some kind of joke!

"Okay, so now, are you with me, Ana? If we were to think of these two purses as visual representations of what people can afford, the Michael Kors would represent Christian and the Calvin Klein would be your dad," Mia illustrated, putting each bag on display as though she was making a powerpoint presentation. "Do you see what I mean now? If I say my brother gave me money to get you something nice, you might as well get the Michael Kors. Every woman needs at least one top-of-the-line purse in her closet.

Ana's gaze dropped to check out Mia's handbag. It was black, sachet style and also a Michael Kors. Without saying another word, she started perusing the other displays and comparing price tags. She emerged triumphant a few minutes later with a Steve Madden crossbody bag bargain-priced at $22.50 and a retail price of $68.00.

"Hmm...not bad, not bad," Mia alternated between nodding and shaking her head. "Is this what you really want?"

"Yes," Ana replied, sliding the Steve Madden purse into the Nordstrom shopping basket.

Smiling, Mia took Ana's arm and guided her toward the registers. While scanning their purchases, the cashier complimented Ana, telling her the Steve Madden purse was a terrific bargain. Mia was quick to pay with her card before Ana had the chance to pull out her paper money.

"Thank you."

"I told you my brother is paying Hey, are you having fun yet?" She giggled as they strolled outside the store, walked around and made a beeline for the makeup section of Ulta Beauty. There she spent quite a bit of time trying out different shades of Tarte foundation. "These are called testers because you take a sample and compare it against the color of your skin," she said dabbing different shades on the inside of Ana's wrist. "Okay, hmm...let me see...now hold your hand up to your face like this."

Ana followed Mia's instructions, curious. Back home, she'd worn lipstick regularly but applied foundation on special occasions. As a result, she'd had the same foundation bottle for years.

"I think this is your shade," she said, holding a bottle marked Ivory. "Tarte is the best out there, you won't be sorry." She then went back to peruse the testers.

"Ladies? May I help you with anything?" A sales associate approached them, smiling. "If you're unsure about a shade, I can do your make up and show you," she said, pointing to her makeup station consisting of a swivel chair in front of a large lighted mirror.

"No, thank you," Mia answered in a sharp tone, going back to the testers.

Ana simply smiled at the makeup artist. "This is my first time here."

"Oh. Perfect. I can show you some options. Do you usually buy Tarte?"

Ana shook her head no. She was about to add something else when she caught sight of Mia slipping one of the testers into her purse. She forced herself to glance back at the sales lady who seemed to be oblivious to what had just happened. "No...I don't normally wear foundation," she replied distractedly.

"You are so pretty, I bet I can find a pretty shade for you. You're welcome to try it out, no obligation."

Ana hesitated, not sure what to expect from this makeup session. She'd never had a professional do her makeup before. "No, thank you," she shrugged. "Maybe another time."

"Well, let me know if you change your mind," the older woman said before walking away.

"What do you think you' re doing?"

"Wh—at?"

"I saw you."

Mia another word, Mia made a beeline for the exit with Ana following closely behind carrying their Nordstrom's shopping bags.

"Are you going to answer me?" Ana demanded. "Look. I don't know you well, and you're Christian's sister, and I respect you for that...but what you did there was wrong."

Mia made a face. "Are you always this...blunt?"

"In Cuba, stores don't have testers...they're too afraid of losing out because of people like you taking advantage."

"Look...you're making a mistake," Mia exhaled loudly. "It's not that big of a deal. I didn't take the full product. This is only a tester. Half the product is already gone."

"But you took it from the store and now other people won't get a chance to try it."

"So? This is a multi-million dollar franchise. They have thousands of testers for people to try out. That's the whole point of testers. There is no harm here."

Ana shook her head, unconvinced. "This is wrong. You have to put it back!" She stated resolutely.

Mia stared at Ana as though she'd had grown two heads. "Are you freaking kidding me?"

 ** **A/N:****

 ** **EVERYONE:****

I've blocked private messaging and notifications from this site. I don't FF notifications on my phone, I have two curious kids at home. I'm usually logged in to this site and read reviews that way instead. Since no longer reply directly to reviews, I will reply here to questions or anything that needs clarification.


	16. Chapter 16

Everyone,

I apologize, this isn't a chapter I have been quite ill with back to back severe vertigo attacks. The first one sent me to the hospital. It was so bad it gave me a panic attack, the world spinning hundred miles per hour. I was sent home and just when i thought all was well I had another one more severe than the first one and lasted for many days with no relief. This is the first day ive been able to look at my phone long enough to type. It's still an effort and If anyone has had something like this and knows how to recover from this and prevent another attack, it would be such a blessing to me.

As to the story, I had about a thousand words written when this happened. I' m not abandoning this story. It's going to take me a little longer than I thought but I will be back God willing. Thanks


	17. Chapter 17

****A/N:****

 ** **This chapter is unedited. It may also have formatting issues but I figured getting the story out was more important than such details. I'm not a professional writer nor do I wish to become one.****

* * *

Chapter Sixteen

"I'm not kidding! You have to take it back to the store!"

Ana's urgent tone of voice made heads turn sharply. Feeling the stares of the people around them, Mia was astonished to learn Ana didn't appear afraid to make a scene.

"Okay, Fine!" Mia retorted, rolling her eyes. "This is totally NOT worth an argument." She then pulled out the makeup bottle, held it partially hidden in her fist and marched it back to the store. "There. Are you happy, now?" She turned to Ana in an exasperated tone after setting the bottle squarely on the shelf.

"May I help you ladies?"

Ana turned. It was the same makeup artist that had assisted them before. She was surprised to see that the girl had already forgotten them. But then, as a look of recognition flashed on the woman's face.

"You came back for your complimentary makeover session?" She asked, smiling. And before she realized what was happening she was being led to her station with the promise of a special promotion.

Ana was curious to see what this special promotion was. Besides, it wouldn't be a bad idea to pick up a foundation bottle while she was here. Yes. Maybe it would help making here look prettier, older and more sophisticated.

"Our skin is always changing due to our activities, climate and even hormones. That's why I tell every woman that you will look your best if you analyze your skin on a day to day basis, climate to climate basis in order to promote healthy radiance," the woman said while getting the tools ready. She'd selected several shades of foundation and concealer to try on Ana's skin. "I'm going to give you some general guidelines that if followed will make a world of difference in your skin now and in the future. This here is our starter kit, it has everything you need for your skin."

Mia settled back to watch with a laid back expression. Every couple of minutes she would wander off to look at merchandise. Ana tried to follow her movements but it was hard since the makeup artist was so distracting.

"What's your name again?"

Ana didn't think she'd told her name. "I'm Ana."

The girl smiled. "I'm Alice. What do you think? We could go a shade lighter on your concealer, but I think this is a good match."

At first Ana was against the idea of a concealer but now that she saw them together, she could see a big difference, she thought as she studied herself in the mirror.

"I like this," Ana smiled. She suddenly looked older and prettier. Her problem had always been looking younger than her actual age. "How old do you think I am?"

"Hmm... nineteen? Twenty?"

"Eighteen," Ana replied as Mia headed back in their direction.

Alice finished off by applying lipstick and mascara.

"Wow. You look stunning. Wait till Christian sees you," Mia smiled for the first time since their little squabble.

Ana smiled back. "So what is the special promotion you mentioned?" She asked Alice.

"With the purchase of the primer, foundation and concealer. $93 value, yours today for $59. It's our best sale of the year," Alice said in a chirpy tone. When Ana hesitated, she pulled a set of makeup brushes out of her drawer that came in an attractive pink colored case. "Just for coming in today, we're throwing in this makeup set of five brushes valued at $60 absolutely free."

Absolutely free? All Ana could think about was that amount-the $60-was exactly the amount of money she had in her purse at the moment, what she had managed to save in the last couple of months. It was mind-boggling. She didn't know which was more surprising, that the brushes cost that much money or that she would be getting them for free. By the way, this getting-stuff-for-free scenario reminded her of the conversation she had with Christian after the pizza guy failed to deliver their pizza in a timely manner.

Both Alice and Mia were looking at her expectantly. Hmm. She supposed she needed to make a decision. Hmm. "So, I would be getting all this for $59, right?"

Alice nodded as she wiped her station clean getting it ready for her next customer.

Ana bit her lip. She was torn. She really loved the makeup kit but at the same time she felt it was way too much money to spend on makeup alone.

"We'll take it," Mia announced and when Ana started to protest she reminded her that it was really her brother's money and not hers and that his specific instructions were: Get Ana something nice. "And I think this definitely qualifies as something nice," she smiled.

"Let's grab a quick bite," Mia said making a beeline for a place called Cinnabon.

"This is absolutely delicious," Ana said after taking a bite of a cinnamon roll.

"Every time I have this, I feel like I've gone to heaven and back," Mia giggled. "From the minute Christian told me about you, I knew I had to bring you here." She took a few more bites with an expression of delight. "Christian tells me that you two have to attend an interview with the INS?"

Ana's smile faded at the sudden change of topic. "Yes."

"What are your plans for the future?"

Ana shifted in her seat. Darn it! She wished that Christian had prepared her for what to say. As it was, she was going to need to improvise. She finished the last bit of her cinnabon, surprising herself. They were that good.

"I need to use the bathroom. I'll be right back."

…..

Christian and Ana

The public restroom was huge and pristine clean. It had an actual lounge area with plush couches, side tables and lamps. The lounge alone was as big as her living room back in Cuba. After a moment of initial confusion, Ana moved past a woman coming in the opposite direction who was holding the door for her. She thanked her and walked in to the stall area. There were about twenty stalls and there was a stream of women coming in and out. Ana leaned against the wall and retrieved her phone from her purse. Thankfully it was on the home screen and was able to dial Christian right away. He didn't pick up until the fifth ring.

"Hello?" He sounded busy and distracted. "Ana? Is everything alright?"

"Yes," she quickly answered. Her heart skipped at the sound of his voice. Focus, focus! " Mia is asking me questions about us. What am I supposed to say? You should have prepared me," she's said barely able to control her anger. She kept her eyes fixed on the door, half-expecting Mia to come in looking for her any minute now.

Ana heard him let out a long exhale. "I told her you and I had hit it off and that it was love at first sight. I didn't want to have to answer any questions. So I lied."

Ana's heart sank. So he lied. She pulled the phone away from her ear and stared at it as though she'd just been slapped. "What do you want me to say?" She asked in a thin voice.

"It's up to you, __muchacha linda__ ( beautiful girl)," he said. Hearing him speak the words in her native language sounded like a sweet caress, especially because they weren't speaking face to face. "Feel free to add any details as long as it doesn't contradict our story, anything you come up with it's fine with me. Your dad hired me to bring you to states and we fell in love and it was love at first sight. That's it. You can mention the upcoming interview with immigration if you want...but it's just a formality. You and I are married for life."

 _ _Married for life.__

Ana closed her eyes at that moment, ignoring the hustle and bustle of people around her. How she wished, right now, more than anything, that his words were true. How she wished she could see his face right now. Visions of him as they lay in bed this morning, him touching her down there, giving her the most amazing rush she'd ever experienced.

"Are you waiting in line?" Someone asked.

The question abruptly brought her out of her musings. She glanced at the stall directly in front of her and shook her head. She then went to the sink area and peered at herself in the mirror. She really liked what she saw, she really looked prettier. She glowed. She could hardly wait for Christian's reaction. The thought made her giddy with excitement. Smiling at the world, she made small talk with the woman beside her at the mirror. The woman pulled a brush out of her purse and started brushing her hair; Ana followed suit and dug out her comb. In doing so, her fingers bumped against the wrapper of the Nutri-grain bar from the airport. Hmm. It seemed like a lifetime ago now. But it had only been five days ago.

She came out of the restroom. A quick glance at their table told her that while she was gone, Mia had been deeply entertained with her phone. She breathed a sigh of relief; she now had a few extra seconds to rehearse her answer to Mia's question about her future with her brother.

"Hey, you're back," Mia said without glancing away from her phone. Ana shook her head at the girl's level of absorption which would be would be out right dangerous in any public place in Havana.

"So what next?"

Mia looked up from her screen. "Christian said something about grocery shopping...but that's boring. I say, takeout for dinner," she went on, her attention alternating between Ana and her phone. "Besides, we'll have time to go to a couple of stores. What else do you need? Hmm...yes, you wanted to get some hair accessories or something?"

Ana cocked her head. "Takeout?"

"Yeah. How about some Chinese food?"

Ana still gave her a blank look.

Mia made full eye contact. "Takeout. We go to the restaurant and order the food to go. We take it home."

"I don't think that will be necessary...I can cook a healthy meal in no time at all."

Mia pursed her lips. "I tell you, Christian loves Chinese." Suddenly, her expression changed. Don't tell my brother...what happened was a big mistake, believe me," she said with an anguished expression that touched Ana. She was no stranger to suffering, she'd suffered and witnessed unspeakable suffering herself. "Christian won't forgive me this time, he already told me if I mess up he will not give me another chance," she broke down completely then, tears streaming down her cheeks as she related through gasps her sob story of how her family had never truly understood her. Maybe it was true that she had made some bad decisions in the past but now they wouldn't get past that and assume the worst. "Please, Ana. Don't tell Christian...he will completely blow this out of proportion, I know he will. He will kick me out and right now I have no money and no place to stay."

Ana hesitated. Maybe the thing with the makeup tester wasn't such a big of a deal? Was it worth breaking up the family? Was it true that Mia had nowhere to go? __Ay, Dios!__ She hated being in the middle of this family crisis. She now had to make some decisions based on incomplete information as Christian had told her very little about himself and his family. She had no choice but rely on her own instincts. And right now her instincts were telling her to keep her peace.

"Ana? Please?"

"I won't say anything, don't worry."

Mia smiled gratefully and reached for Ana's hand across the table. "Thanks. Hey, are you finishing your cinnabon?"

Ana lowered her head and savored the last few bites of her caramelized pastry. A thought still nagged her. Even though it would have been easier to leave things at that, she felt she had to say what was on her mind. "I hope you realize how lucky you are, Mia. You have so many advantages, so many blessings here in the United States of America...so many things that people in other parts of the world don't have."

Mia raised a brow and nodded. "Yeah," she murmured noncommittally.

"Everywhere around the world, people are coming to America. Ev'ry time the flag's unfurled, they're coming to America."

"Wh-what?"

"It's from the song, America by Neil Diamond the jazz singer."

"Jazz singer?" Mia raised her brows. "Never heard of him."

Now it was Ana's turn to be surprised. "Seriously? I grew up listening to this song. My mom had Neil Diamond's albums and listened to them whenever she got homesick," she went on with a bittersweet expression. "My grandparents emigrated to Florida before my mom was born. She was their only child. It wasn't until she was in high school that they moved to Seattle. Mom always talked about how hard it was at first to make friends as she was the new girl in town. Long story short, she got pregnant with me at fifteen. My grandparents believed the only way to save face was to return to Cuba. I grew up listening to my grandma telling everyone about the man who had seduced her poor baby daughter. My dad was only two years older," she paused taking a deep breath. "Anyway, my mom never got over being unfairly uprooted from the life she knew. I remember her crying, I remember her dancing to Neil Diamond's song whenever she got nostalgic. I remember being five or six years old listening to her stories of America." she paused, a dreamy expression on her face. "Her greatest wish was to return home where she belonged. One day we will go home together, sweet girl, you'll see...she told me again and again. But her wish never came true. She never came back. I grew up believing in the dream that we were supposed to come back together," Ana cried with a lump the size of mars lumped in her throat.

"I'm sorry." Mia enveloped both her hands in hers. "I can only imagine how hard it must have been for your mom, she had no control of her situation. Why didn't she try to leave Cuba once she became an adult?"

Ana considered her question for a long moment. She certainly remembered her having heated arguments with her parents from time to time where she threatened to board the next boat out of Cuba. After much drama and repeated pleadings, life usually came back to status quo. Life went on.

"I don't think she seriously considered leaving her mom and dad behind. Family is everything. She knew if she left she'd never see them again. Although at the same time, I think she still held hope that one day her dream would still come true."

"It's very sad."

"It is," Ana said with silent tears streaming down her face.

"I'm sure she's smiling down at you from heaven for fulfilling the dream for both of you."

Ana nodded. That was a very kind thing to say, even if she didn't consider herself a true believer. Despite her catholic traditional upbringing, she didn't feel particularly faithful. Her stay at the convent had done very little to change that.

Mia pulled out her phone and did a search for the America song. At once, she clicked on a you-tube video. She then turned so that Ana could view the video. "Wow. This dude is quite old. Is he like seventy?"

Far,

We've been traveling far

Without a home

But not without a star

Free,

Only want to be free

We huddle close

Hang on to a dream

On the boats and on the planes

They're coming to America

Never looking back again,

They're coming to America

Home

Don't it seem so far away

Oh, we're traveling light today

In the eye of the storm

In the eye of the storm

Home

To a new and a shiny place

Make our bed and we'll say our grace

Freedom's light burning warm

Freedom's light burning warm.

Ana watched the video, mesmerized. The memories came rushing over. Her heart warmed as she pictured her mother in her final days swollen with child, blissfully unaware of her fate. The memories called to her, surrounding her as she later visited her mother's grave. Her mother had loved roses, red roses especially. "You should have been here with me today, mama," she mumbled quietly, dabbing the tears from her eyes.

As the song neared the end, Ana wished with all her heart that indeed there was a thing such as heaven and that her mama was there right now watching her with the brightest of smiles, happy for her, happy for both of them. "I wish I could watch this video all the time," she said, surprising herself. Yes, the song was bittersweet but also, at the same time, it was a way to honor Carla and keep her memory alive.

"You can! Give me your phone, I'll save it for you so you can watch the video anytime," Mia offered kindly.

Ana's expression brightened. "Thank you, Mia," she replied with genuinely grateful, happy to be here right now here in America, enjoying the last bites of her cinnabon, feeling safe and free, no pressure to do anything or be anything but herself.

Mia went right to work. When she was done creating a playlist for Ana and creating a shortcut in the phone's home screen, she turned to her with a quizzical expression.

"I love this country."

"I can see that," Mia studied her for a long moment. "You might actually be more patriotic than me."

Ana laughed and Mia readily joined her. "I don't know how to explain it. But there's something about you, Ana. I think your patriotism is genuine. I can feel it. I think you have inspired me," she smiled widely. "I'm thinking patriotism is more than just reciting the national anthem or watching the fireworks on the 4th of July. It's a feeling in your heart that brings out the best in you."

Ana nodded, eyes shinning.

Mia made a motion to gather her things. "Hey, are you ready to shop until we drop?" She giggled and Ana smiled back.

Until we drop? Drop what? Ana pondered. Oh, well. She shrugged one shoulder. It wasn't until they started strolling the mall again when she was fully relieved that Mia did not bring up the question of her future with Christian again.


	18. Chapter 18

Chapter Seventeen

"Your English is pretty good," Mia observed as they went on to do some window shopping. "You do have a slight Spanish accent."

Ana met her gaze. Hearing this from Mia was another eye-opener; contrary to what she'd believed all her life her native language was Spanish, not English. She'd held on to that belief for so long, it was hard to let go of such a notion. Accepting it meant that she had to re-classify herself as a foreigner which knocked down her confidence. "My mom spoke to me in English all the time; she never spoke Spanish at home," she paused. "As a matter of fact, she spoke to my grandparents in English and they answered her in Spanish. It was a little funny sometimes listening to them," she explained with a tiny smile.

"Huh," Mia let out a long sigh. "Spanish is so hard! I took it in high school, those rolling R's just about killed me."

"So you think people can tell right away I'm a foreigner just by hearing me speak?" She asked, hating the vulnerability in her own voice.

Mia shrugged one shoulder and gave the matter some thought. "Why don't you try it and strike up a conversation with someone and see."

"Excuse me, miss, I couldn't help but overhear you say you like men who drink coffee," an attractive man clad in dark leather jacket and shades approached them as they stopped in front of Starbucks. "I'm Matt..." He held out his hand. "And right now you might be the only thing hotter thing hotter than this almond milk latte."

Both Mia and Ana whipped their heads to look at the man in unison. The man shifted his gaze between them but it was clear that he was speaking to Mia.

"As far as pick-up lines go, that's pretty bad." Mia threw her head back and laughed with a confidence that was shocking to Ana. She gave the man a long look, checking him out but still did not shake his hand. "For starters, that's not even what I said."

Matt appeared unfazed. "I'm sorry but I don't believe I caught your name?"

"Probably because I didn't give it," Mia quickly replied, locking arms with Ana as they walked away. "Corny but cute, isn't he?" she whispered to Ana. She turned her head and briefly caught a glimpse Matt following closely behind but continued walking.

"Playing hard to get huh?" Matt stopped in the middle of a long passageway with people whizzing by at a fast speed.

Mia turned around. "Got a pen?" She smiled. "744-8865," she said without waiting for his response.

Ana turned back just in time to see Matt's triumphant smile as they walked away. "Did you just give him your phone number?" The question was rhetorical; she was in shock that Mia would give her number to a complete stranger.

After that, Mia took Ana to Claire's boutique. The store was packed with overwhelming amounts of fashion jewelry and accessories.

Ana looked around for the longest time. Her eyes tried to take it all in but it was impossible. Zeroing in on the hair clips available for sale, there were too many equally desirable items and it was not clear what she should base her criteria on when making a choice. Indeed, Everywhere she turned, she found herself with far too many choices. She looked around helplessly. Would she always feel like this, so hopelessly overwhelmed?

While she looked around, trying to make up her mind, Mia engaged in a back and forth texting session which brought a permanent smile to her face.

"Is it Christian?"

"No. It's Matt. I'm meeting him later tonight for a drink."

Ana was shocked. Mia had met him five minutes ago. "Are you serious?"

"Didn't you think he's cute?" Mia wondered, still smiling.

They left the mall shortly after ordering take out at a Chinese restaurant. Ana was certain the food would be too cold to eat when they got home. Back in Cuba, they didn't own a microwave, they cooked their food from scratch and re-heated everything on the stove.

"I would love to stay for dinner with you and Christian, but I'm afraid I'm too hungry to wait," Mia said while serving a generous helping of chow mein and grilled chicken teriyaki. "Besides, I have to meet Matt in an hour."

Ana shook her head in disbelief. She supposed she would need to get used to the American way regarding meals; the serving, eating rituals and the whole enchilada. There was a casualness about it that she found disconcerting. Back home, meals were more of a social affair, something that you enjoy with other people. And here was Mia, stuffing her face, her mind clearly onto the next thing on her agenda.

"But Mia, you really don't know this guy...think about it, you don't know a single person that can vouch for him."

Mia shrugged one shoulder. "I'm just going on a date, I'm not marrying the guy!" She threw her head back and let out a merry laugh.

Later

"Mia is not exactly known for her good sense," Christian later told Ana with an apologetic look. "She was a rebellious teenager...who got into all sorts of trouble. She hung out with the wrong crowd," Christian paused. It was hard sharing this with Ana, in a way it felt like she was bad mouthing her sister but at the same time, embellishing the truth would be the same as lying.

They were sitting at the kitchen island enjoying their meal just the two of them. Ana held her fork in midair in expectation. She had the feeling that whatever Christian was about to share was difficult for him. She just hoped Mia hadn't fallen prey to drugs or alcohol.

"My sister got arrested once for shoplifting. She said she didn't want to do it but fell prey to peer pressure. My folks were devastated, still, they gave her chance after chance to clean up her act but she kept making a series of wrong choices...a good for nothing boyfriend who wanted to sit on his ass all day. Part of the reason they moved to Europe was to get her away from the creep," he furrowed his brow. "I sure hope that wasn't him at the mall. What's this guy's name again?"

"His name is Matt...but I don't think she's met him before."

"Maybe that's what they wanted you to think."

Ana stared at Christian wide-eyed. She supposed that was possible. Okay. So Mia had a history of shoplifting. She opened her mouth to speak but Christian beat her to it.

"Anyway, enough about Mia," Christian gave her a small smile. "Did you enjoy your little shopping trip?"

"I did," Ana smiled back. After they got home, they'd spent nearly an hour talking, unpacking their purchases and applying makeup. "I got a new purse...and some makeup too." Her smile widened. "Thank you, Christian."

He nodded. She looked gorgeous this evening; she was wearing one of her new outfits and her makeup looked flawless. His face grew suddenly serious. "I hope it made up for what happened earlier in the day with Elena Lincoln," he paused to gauge her reaction. She nodded in acknowledgment and held his gaze expectantly. "You don't have to worry about her again. I took care of the situation, she will never bother you again," he said resolutely. He had personally spoken to her parole officer who was so angry at the woman for not adhering to her parole conditions he was sending her straight back to prison.

"Mia mentioned a few things about this woman...this Elena Lincoln."

Christian noted they were both done eating and stood up to load the dishes in the dishwasher. "Yes, I will tell you the whole story. But let's finish this and then relax in the living room."

They moved around in the kitchen, their shoulders often touching. Even though it took all his self-restraint to keep himself from taking her in his arms and kissing her, he knew this conversation was long overdue.

But right as they were sitting down to have that long discussion, the phone rang. It was Mia.

...

"Hey, sis! You ditched us!"

"I'm sorry, Chris. I'll be back home in a couple of hours tops, promise!"

Christian raised a brow. It seemed like his little sis was thinking of Escala as her permanent home now. He didn't know how he felt about that. Part of him really was liking having the whole place to himself and Ana.

"Ana is a bit strange."

Christian raised a brow and stepped away from Ana to look out the window. "What do you mean, strange?"

"Well, you would think that after living in a sort of hellhole, she would...I don't know. Trying to make up for it?"

"What are you talking about?"

"She didn't want to get much...even when she wasn't the one paying. I just think that's weird, that's all."

….

After hanging up with his sister, Christian came to sit beside Ana on the couch.

"That was Mia." He noted that she was looking at him strangely. "Why are you looking at me like that?"

"I just thought that you would say something to her about this man Matt."

Christian took a deep breath. He felt she was being critical; but that was Ana, never afraid to speak her mind. There was something to be said about that. "I don't see how anything could have said would have mattered. Mia is an adult, responsible for her own choices."

"Yeah. But you're her brother," Ana replied pointedly. She'd always found the American dating scene-from what she'd seen on TV- hard to understand.

"Yeah," he cocked his head. "Again, she's responsible for her own choices."

"But you could have advised her," she pointed out.

"It's none of my darn business," Christian replied, annoyed.

"So...you don't care?" Ana wondered, genuinely puzzled.

"No, of course I care," he retorted. "I guess our family has never been very close. As a matter of fact, we've been somewhat estranged for the last six years," he paused. His gaze dropped to the FEDEX box on the table. He'd picked it up from the doorman when he first arrived home tonight. It must be Ana's new i-phone. He opened it up and showed it to Ana who didn't seem all that interested.

"What happened, Christian?" Ana prompted him, putting the phone back on the table. This gift from her father was not something she cared for.

"Ten years ago when I was fifteen, something happened, something so shameful that my folks decided the best thing was to lay low. They sold their property and moved to Paris to get away from the scandal...and from me too, I suppose," he said with a pained expression.

Ana nodded lightly. She remembered him saying that Escala had been their home and that his mother had done all the interior decorating.

Ana shook her head. His family had turned their back on him. She couldn't even begin to imagine. Wait, she could. Yes, her own father had turned his back on her.

"Back then I became rebellious, defiant. I wanted to drop out of school. I was hanging out with the wrong crowd and drinking. When I was fifteen, my folks thought it was a good idea for me to go to Elena Lincoln's house and do odd jobs around the house." He paused. This was the hardest part. "She was into something called BDSM," he handed her his phone so she could read what it was all about for herself.

It took Ana a while to read the article he'd given her since she didn't know how to scroll down the page and he had to go over some basics of using a mobile device.

After reading the article, Ana looked at Christian with a confused expression on her face. "She? This woman Elena was into maso- she broke off. She didn't know how to pronounce that word. She knew what it meant though since it had the same root word in Spanish.

"Masochism?" He finished gently.

She shook her head. This masochism? What does it have to do with you?"

Christian took a deep breath. He wished masochism was the worst part of the story; as it was, he was letting the misconception stand. "It was through Elena that I got involved in BDSM. My mother walked in on us one day. Even though we were in a consensual relationship I was only fifteen at the time."

It took a long time for Ana to wrap her head around that. "My God," she breathed. "What happened then?"

"My parents demanded I clean break from Elena but I refused. They wanted to press charges but I also refused to testify against Elena. They were furious at me, couldn't understand. They were forced to drop the charges and three years later they left for Europe and they took Mia with them."

"So how did Elena end up on probation?"

"That was later. Elena and I were in business together. I invested my entire inheritance in a group of night clubs under Elena's management. When the clubs went under, I lost everything financially," he paused. "The clubs were for practicing BDSM...what I didn't know at the time was that Elena was using them to bring illegal women into the country. These young women were being trafficked and sold to the highest bidder. It didn't happen all the time, but certainly too many times. When I discovered it, I turned her over to the authorities. That's why she hates me so much."

The silence that followed was worse than Christian could have possibly imagined. "Ana? Please say something. She was looking at him as though he was an alien creature that had been dropped from outer space. "I had nothing to do with the human trafficking component of the business...trust me, I was disgusted when I found out what was happening under my nose."

Ana took a series of deep breaths, thinking hard. This was all very bad; her mind kept coming back to one question only. "This BDSM...this is something that you like? That you practice?"

"I practiced. It was something that I practiced until the clubs were shut down. I swore to myself I would never come back to that," he said sincerely. She was avoiding his direct gaze and that bothered him. "The key here is practice. I USED to practice BDSM but NOT anymore."

Ana stood up. "I need some time to think about this," she murmured. "I never thought that you..."

He stood up and tried to bridge the distance between them but she stepped back. "Ana, listen! I'm not proud of my past...I wish now I'd never gotten involved with Elena or gone into business with her. I regret whatever harm came to those women deeply, more than you'll ever know."

Later

He found her lying in bed, thinking. He sat quietly beside her on the edge of the bed.

"What now?" She wondered, once again avoiding his gaze. "I'm not sure where do we go from here."

All of a sudden, all he wanted was to take her into his arms and make her his wife in every sense of the word.

"Ana, I want you," he murmured reaching to caress her cheek with the back of the hand. Her expression softened. "And I to have a relationship with you. You make me feel something...I feel a closeness to you that I've never had with anyone."

"The thing is...how could you feel close to someone you've been lying to?" Ana questioned throwing him out for a loop. "If we can't bring in our honest selves, there is something wrong with that relationship," she shook her head sadly. It was more than that, actually. What she'd read about the lifestyle was quite frightening and disturbing. Even though he kept saying he was no longer practicing, in her mind, it still defined him. She couldn't ignore that, could she?

"Lying?" Christian stared at her in disbelief. "I have NOT lied to you, Anastasia."

"Depends on your definition of lying? My definition says lying means concealing the truth. And you have kept this whole part of your life hidden from me...haven't you Christian?"

He tried putting a hand on her shoulder.

"Don't touch me," she mumbled, afraid if he touched her she would break down into tears. _Ay, Dios mio, por que_? (Why, God, why?) She didn't understand how her world could come crumbling down just like that. Never in a million years would she have seen this coming.

 **RESPONSE TO REVIEWS:**

 **JB** : Glad you're enjoying the commentaries. I enjoy hearing your thoughts. Yes, I definitely feel like you in this respect. I do like looking at things from a different perspective. There have been many times that readers have surprised me with ideas I hadn't considered. I love that.

 **Pepe71:** I love writing this Ana. It's a fairly new experience for me. She has a life of her own very distinct from mine. I'm hoping this is making her believable. I hope that I don't lose that along the way. So far, she's been talking to me and I'm listening.

 **FSOGFanfictionAddiction:** Very well said. Glad you enjoyed the chapter.

 **Guest from South Carolina:** Share with me the other possibilities you see for this story, LOL. Right now I can't see anything in their future beyond their INS interview. Thanks for your warm words.

 **JazzSinger:** I'm glad this made you laugh as my purpose is to entertain and it also happens to make me happy. I'm still leaving what I wrote as I originally wrote it.

 **Munkeyfump20:** You're right, if people don't like, they don't have to read :)

 **EVERYONE:**

If you've ever been a foreigner in another country, please share your perspective as an outsider. There may be things I've barely touched on in this story that could be addressed and make for a better story. Thanks. Plus one idea usually leads to another and so on.


	19. Chapter 19

Chapter eighteen

Christian ran a hand over his hair. He wasn't going to defend himself, he knew he should have been more forthcoming in talking about his past. He'd known that sooner or later it would come out in the open especially when Raymond Steele confronted him a few days ago. Yet, the man had given him the benefit of the doubt when he'd explained that his relationship to BDSM had been a thing of the past. But for some reason, Ana saw things differently. As a matter of fact, he didn't like the look in her eyes whenever their eyes met. He supposed he should give her time to absorb everything he'd just told her. And so he decided to give her some space.

"I'm sleeping in the room down the hallway," he announced. Without waiting for a response, he moved to gather his pillow, his things.

Ana's heart dropped. Still, she said nothing and watched him helplessly, knowing she would have a hard time sleeping without him next to her.

* * *

….

Mia arrived early the next morning, looking as though she'd barely slept all night and yet, at the same time, she was giddy with excitement. Ana was in the kitchen making breakfast and Christian was not up yet.

"I think I will head to bed now," Mia said after grabbing a bowl of cereal. "Sorry, no offense, I'm just not in the mood for a big breakfast."

"Can I ask you something?"

"Huh huh," she mumbled as she ate. She was eating fast as though she was training to participate in a food eating contest.

"This guy Matt...you knew him from before...right?"

Mia tensed. "From before what?"

"Did you know him before last night?"

"No, I didn't," Mia shrugged. "He's great. I can't wait to see him again tonight."

Ana shook her head as she removed the bacon off the skillet and set it aside to cool. "But you just spent the night with him?" She couldn't help the judgmental tone in her voice which immediately put Mia in the defensive.

"Whoa..if it isn't ms. perfect talking?" Mia let out a huff.

Christian walked in at that moment and Mia wrapped him into a bear hug. He was a bit surprised by her affection. when he and his parents had the big falling out, Mia had immediately sided with them.

They talked for a couple of minutes before Mia excused herself saying she needed to lie down as she had a long night. "Is my old room available?"

"Of course," Christian answered, his attention shifting to Ana who had not said much as she was busy getting a plate ready for Christian.

"Thanks for making this, I'm starved," he said as Mia exited the room.

"Your welcome. I hope you slept well," she said bringing her own plate to the table and sitting across from him.

Christian sighed. "Could have been better. I missed you, Ana."

I missed you too! Ana thought, yet she said nothing.

"Everything I told you last night...it's too much baggage," he shook his head. "My past is dark and sordid past but I don't believe it has to define my future especially when I have turned a new leaf. That lifestyle is a thing of the past, believe me."

Ana considered his words carefully. Even though this was not the first time he'd assured of that, she had now had the chance to think things through. Frankly, last night, she'd felt like an avalanche had descended upon her.

"I'm open to any questions, and I mean any questions. Nothing is taboo."

"Okay," She hesitated. She pushed the food around on her plate. "There's one thing though. You said your mom walked in on you and found out about this lifestyle of yours. How old were you then?"

"I was eighteen when my parents found out. Too old for them to press charges as I was no longer a minor."

"And how old was she?"

He shrugged. "Probably as old as my mom. Late thirties, I think."

"What that woman did was wrong," Ana said sternly. Last night, she had the chance to give this a great deal of thought. The more she thought about it, the more indignant she became. "You were only fifteen when this woman snared you."

Snared? "I admit, I didn't see it that way for many years. I thought the best of her. It wasn't until the scam with the night clubs came to light that I realized the kind of person she was. After that, I went into law enforcement, thinking I needed to do my part in putting people like hers behind bars."

Ana gave his words serious thought. Yes, he'd been a victim, he decided. Except that he'd turned things around, refusing to become a passive victim. He'd taken a stance and he'd done his part in helping make the world a better place and that was something she admired.

By now they were finished with their meal and started loading the dishwasher. They worked seamlessly. At one point, their shoulders touched. Christian stopped moving and Ana looked into his eyes for a moment before lowering them.

"I meant what I said last night, Ana. I want a relationship with you," he lifted her chin and she met his gaze tentatively.

"Christian-I just can't-I don't know."

"No pressure. I will give you the time you need. I want you to be sure you want to be with me...and not just for the INS interview."

He regarded her intently, letting her know she had his undivided attention.

"Christian...There's a lot to think about..."

Wasn't this what she'd been hoping for all along?

Yep, he'd actually said it. She was sure. Last night, she might have misheard...but this time there was no mistaking it. He wanted her!

Her heart skipped a beat. Did he just say he wanted to be with her?

"I read an article last night...it's hard not to feel...I don't know what the right word is," she lowered her gaze again. "Today Mia said I was being too judgy...and maybe I am, maybe I'm being too judgmental? I don't want to be that way, but I just can't help it. I feel that this BDSM is... wrong."

"Ana...I'm not asking you to accept the lifestyle. I'm not into that anymore," he paused meaningfully. "But I feel like you're having a hard time separating who I am from my past."

"I don't want to judge you...but at the same time, I can't help feeling the way I do."

"I think you need more time." He wondered. As he said before, he would give her all the time she needed. One thing was for sure, she needed to be able to put all this behind them in order to embrace the future and realize that his separation from his past was permanent. He walked over to the kitchen island and grabbed his keys. "I need to get going. Two things today: Later this morning Molly Maid is sending one of their workers for three hours and-"

Ana let out a huff. "What am I supposed to do during those three hours? Watch her clean?"

Christian shrugged one shoulder. "Maybe you and Mia can chat? Watch TV? Give each other manicures?" He said lightheartedly, grabbing his briefcase. "But promise me you won't clean right along with her?"

Ana made a face and he let out a chuckle. "C'mon. I wanna hear the words."

Ana rolled her eyes and his eyes darkened. "Okay. I promise not to clean right alongside the maid."

In turn, he rolled his eyes in playful disbelief. She stifled a chuckle. "No cleaning prior or afterward. Got it?"

He regarded her suspiciously. "Ana?"

She nodded her head reluctantly.

"Promise me!" He persisted and patiently waited with his hand on the doorknob.

"Okay, I promise! I promise I won't clean today!"

This was just so hilarious, she thought. If the nouns could see her right now, what would they say hearing her make such a promise?

"Atta-girl!" He chuckled. "Oh, yes. The other thing. Your doctor's appointment is at 3:00 pm. I will be coming back at 2:30 and drive you there. Alright?"

"Okay," Ana muttered as Christian closed the door behind him. Her heart dropped, missing him already.

* * *

...

In the waiting room at the doctor's office

When at last the nurse called Ana, she looked back at Christian, half expecting him to go in with her even though he'd already told her he'd be waiting for her in the waiting room. This was her first time seeing a doctor by herself. Back home Mami always went with her to all of her doctor's appointments.

After getting her weight and vitals, the nurse ushered her into a room. Everything was very modern and the staff very efficient but a little bit too cold and standoffish.

"Sonic attack, huh?" The doctor took a moment to do a google search and familiarize himself with the case. "Any headaches, buzzing in the ears?" He asked while examining her.

"Not really. I haven't had any symptoms since I arrived at the airport."

The doctor looks down at his laptop again. "Your medical records look good. I see you're up to date on your shots...any concerns?"

Ana shook her head no.

"You mentioned you just got married..." He said looking at her through the rim of his glasses. "What form of birth control are you using?"

Ana was shocked at the direct question over something she considered taboo.

"Have you ever visited an OB-GYN before?"

Ana gave the doctor a blank look.

"An OB-GYN is a women's health doctor," he said carefully and waited for her reaction.

Ana was confused. Back in Cuba, women don't go see a gynecologist unless they're pregnant.

"I will take that as a no?" He grabbed a couple of pamphlets and handed them to Ana. "These are several options for birth control. You can take them home, and read and think about them or I can write you a prescription if you already know what you want."

"I don't know," she answered after a long silence. She supposed she should probably get something just in case. Better safe than sorry? But she was truly at a loss. She was not familiar with the various methods of birth control. She'd only heard of the pill and then she'd also heard there was a cancer risk associated with it. So was it a matter of weighing out the lesser of the two evils?"

"Okay. Sounds like you need to do your homework first," the doctor replied, already thinking of the next patient. "Give me a call when you're ready and I'll write the prescription."

* * *

...

A few days later

It was the weekend so Christian was off work. They decided to have breakfast and not wait for Mia to emerge from her room. It seemed like her normal routine was to go to bed late and rise late. After breakfast, they both retreated to the living room. Christian got busy returning some emails. After a while, he noticed that Ana also got busy with her electronic device. She had decided to keep the android phone for her personal use and refused to even look at the i-phone her father had gifted her.

"What are you watching?"

Ana tilted the screen forward so that he could take a look.

Christian cocked his ears forward. He recognized the tune for sure.

 _Everywhere around the world, they're coming to America._

 _Every time the flag's unfurled,_

 _they're coming to America._

 _Got a dream to take them there_

 _they're coming to America._

"I know this song...it's by...huh," Christian trailed off.

"Neil Diamond, the jazz singer," Ana smiled. "That's what my mom used to call him. As it turned out, he wasn't even a jazz singer at all," she said shaking her head. "Jazz singer was the name of the album based on the movie The Jazz Singer. The style of music was not jazz but pop music...," she let out a deep breath. "Neil Diamond's style was more like soft rock, pop, and country. I read all about it on the internet," she trails off, amazed at the sheer amount of information out there at the touch of your fingertips in just seconds.

Christian was happy to hear she had now become more familiar with using her smartphone to navigate the internet. "You listened to this song back in Cuba?"

"Yes," she mumbled, once again overcome with bittersweet memories. "It was my mom's favorite song in the whole wide world. America. She dreamed of coming back to America for as long as I remember. I remember her cranking up the volume and us dancing all around the house and singing at the top of her lungs. I'll never forget the look of longing and hope on her face," her face suddenly crumbled. "Life is not very fair, is it?

"No it is isn't. Life is often a tragedy. I'm sorry about your mom, sorry she never got to come back home."

"You know what Mia said when I told her the story? She said I was here to fulfill the dream for us both," she murmured softly, tears streaming down her face.

Christian held his breath, her pain was as palpable to him as though it was his own. He imagined she would always carry the loss of her mother wherever she went. He wished for nothing less than to be able to ease her pain. "That was a beautiful thing for her to say," he mumbled softly, reaching to caress her cheek with the back of his hand.

In response, she leaned in closer, and in a move that seemed perfectly natural, he wrapped an arm around her and gave her a comforting hug. Ana slipped easily into his embrace and rested her face into his lightly bristled cheek. She inhaled his manly scent and musk, relished the feel of her breasts against his chest, the beat of his heart against hers.

Unable to help herself, she nuzzled his cheek, placing a kiss along his jaw. Heaven help her, she wanted more than just comfort. She wanted more, a lot more.

Christian groaned and at once, she saw how he struggled against his own temptation. Unable to contain himself any longer, he turned and caught her lips in his. He slid his tongue in hers and raw need took over. Hands explored, stroked, caressed. Breaths mingled, and heat explored in a sexual rush. He positioned himself above her, and his hands strayed down to her belly, toying with the waistband of her jeans, slipping deliciously onto her warm abdomen.

She let out a gasp, nervous about where this was heading and yet, she clung to him, wrapping her arms around him and deepening the kiss.

Before she knew what was happening, the top button of her jeans popped and when his hand reached in between her legs, she let out a quiet moan and spread her legs further apart. Brushing the fabric of her underwear, he was delighted to find she was already wet. Further, he felt encouraged to continue his caresses by the deep, sexy sounds she was making.

Just as he contemplated carrying her back to the bedroom bridal style, they were forced to part suddenly as they both heard the clomp of Mia's loud heels against the marble floor.

"Oops...did I interrupt something?" she asked innocently in a tone that sounded almost too cheerful.

"Oh, no," Ana quickly replied glancing over at Christian who was still looking lustfully at her, tugging at his jeans around the crotch area.

* * *

…

Shortly after, Ana fixed steak and potatoes for lunch. Mia and Christian complemented her on the meal, Mia was highly impressed wither her cooking skills. After lunch, Christian went straight to his laptop. Ana and Mia exchanged a knowing look; even though he was home, he was still planning on working this weekend.

"Well, that leaves us two choices," Ana said to Mia with a straight face. "Clean the house...or give each other manicures."

"I vote for the manicures!"

Ana grinned, glad that Mia wasn't the type to hold grudges. After rummaging through Mia's extensive travel nail polish collection, Ana chose a light pink polish for herself. Mia chose a black shade that Ana found appalling. Still, she applied the polish on to the best of her ability.

While she waited for her nail polish to dry, Mia sneezed a couple of times. "Ana? Can you please get me Kleenex? I have a small pack in my purse."

Ana nearly froze when she noticed a hair clip (her missing hair clip!) as she rummaged through Mia's purse. "look?"

"Oh...my!" Mia giggled. "I found it yesterday...I was going to give it back to you, but forgot!"

"You did?" Ana shook her head, torn, not sure what to believe. It seemed to her that if Mia had intended to give her the hair clip back, why did she have it buried deep inside her purse?

* * *

… **.**

Later

In the quiet of the afternoon, Christian found Ana on the couch, watching the Neil Diamond video for the up tenth time.

He sat beside her. "Hey, you could sing Neil Diamond's song at the interview and earn some brownie points toward your citizenship," he joked and she laughed merrily.

"Except I'm already a US Citizen..." She bit her lip. She was going to say more, rant about both her parents having American citizenship and how rights had been trampled first by both the Cuban and the American government, her legal status pathetically undetermined through no fault of her own.

Christian simply nodded, conceding her point.

She met his gaze and they stared at each other for the longest time, indecision, longing and something akin to regret pulling them in different directions.

At last, she spoke.

"Christian...can I ask you a question?"

He shrugged one shoulder. "Shoot."

"What if beating someone is the only way you can be...satisfied?"

The question initially stunned him as it was unexpected, however, he quickly recovered.

"It doesn't. It's been a couple of years now since I've had a submissive. I've had a few relationships since then where there have been no binding, no spanking. Those relationships failed for other reasons...lack of true intimacy...and I can tell you for sure those activities no longer excite me."

Ana let out the breath she was holding. This sounded good. But how could she be sure he wouldn't ever want something from her...something she could never give him?

He seemed to read the hesitation on her face. "Believe me, Ana. I have no reason to lie. I'm tired of empty, loveless relationships," he paused. "I understand you being cautious...but perhaps you're taking this a little too far? I can only give you my word and you're gonna have to trust me here."

Her gaze softened. _Ay, Dios!_ She was so ready to believe.

"It seems to me the whole way you'll be convinced is for me to actually show you," he said, scooting closer," for me to make love to you," he murmured softly in her ear.

At once, she dropped her protective armor, the moment she heard his next words:

"Let me make love to you, Ana."

 **RESPONSE TO REVIEWS:**

 **hummergirlnv:** Finally! Yes, we're one step closer. Hope you enjoyed! BTW, this is a slow burn story ;) The question is, is it time yet?

 **Munkeyfump20:** Thank you for sharing your battle with cancer, I will be keeping you in my prayers. I'm glad this story is bringing us together and perhaps helping you in a small way. There is a quote I especially like: "There are no passengers on planet earth, we're all crew." I think it means: we're all in this together for better or for worse, let's be there for one another.

 **LiannyW:** Good point, they're just getting to know each other and he did tell her as soon as Elena appeared.

 **Zeeulove:** The jury is out on that one. I think Ana is just upset that he was so secretive about his life, only gave her little crumbs here and there but nothing substantial.

 **Aja2007** : I'm happy to hear you look forward to updates! Reviews like yours motivate me to keep coming back with more even when I'm not 100% sure what to write next. That's happened in the last couple of chapters, some parts I wasn't so sure about but I figured that something was better than nothing. That's why the chapters have been a little on the short side lately. Please keep them coming.

 _Quick questions:_ Do you think Mia was lying or was she really going to give Ana the hair clip back? Will A & C make love at last?


	20. Chapter 20

Chapter nineteen

Ana lowered her gaze. Her right hand played with her wedding band, her mind taking her back to their brief marriage ceremony at the embassy. She'd grown up believing in the sanctity of marriage vows and yet, here she was pledging to stand by Christian, a man she hardly knew, for better or for worse.

Theirs had been a civil ceremony, so there had been no legal requirement to wear rings. Yet, Christian produced two gold wedding bands at the right moment, seemingly out of nowhere.

He'd surprised everyone, especially Ana, who stared at him wide-eyed as he reached for her hand.

"With his ring, I wed you. This is for you to remember that you're my talisman, Ana... and that I'm yours."

They were each other's talismans.

Then, it was her turn. Not wanting to mindlessly repeat his vows, Ana looked at the ambassador for help.

"I take you, Christian, to be my lawful wedded husband," she said simply.

His vows had been short, original and sweet. Just like hers.

Presently, Ana couldn't help but wish theirs had been a traditional marriage ceremony filled with forever promises of love and faithfulness. But there had been none of that.

Christian was looking at her expectantly waiting for her response. Ana shook her head to fully bring herself back to the present moment.

Looking into Christian's eyes, she felt a strong pull. It would be so easy to say yes, wouldn't it?

The hardest thing was to say: Wait.

Of Course. But how could say yes when her rational mind had snapped to attention like a soldier standing straight in front of a drill sergeant.

Okay, so he'd said he wanted a relationship with her. Still, it was NOT all that clear to her what he meant by that.

"What about love?" She asked pointedly. "I was raised to give my heart and my body only for true love?"

As soon as she said the words she became aware that to him she was sounding a bit like a heroine from a novel from the 17th century.

Christian squinted, momentarily at a loss of words. Love? If he was going to be honest with himself, he liked Ana a lot and he was sure attracted to her but he wouldn't call that love. How could he? They'd met five minutes ago.

"I want you, Ana. I want you like I've never wanted anyone else," he said sincerely, hoping that was enough.

His answer thrilled her and disappointed her at the same time. Her gaze dropped. While it was great to know that he felt something for her, she wanted more, needed more.

After what seemed like an eternity, her gaze slowly rose to meet his and his somber gaze met hers before drifting to her lips. It lingered there and for a moment time came to a standstill.

He bent his head, their faces nearly touching. His lips nearly brushed hers and she couldn't help but part them a fraction. In the next moment, however, she turned her head to the side. If she caved in now against her beliefs, she would lose nothing less than her identity, her self-respect.

"Christian, I know you like me...but I want to feel that you love me," she murmured, tentatively meeting his gaze and yet, making it abundantly clear she wasn't budging on this. Nothing less than a declaration of love would satisfy her. "I'll understand if it's too early for that. But I can't sleep with you unless...unless it's because we love each other and we're going to be together forever."

Christian heard the words: Together forever. He physically retreated from her to the other end of the couch; the distance between them becoming more than just physical.

She was looking at him intently; pressing him for an answer he couldn't give her. Sure they were married but that didn't mean it had to be forever, if he'd believed that, he obviously wouldn't have married her. He shook his head. It was insane.

What she was asking for was outrageous; it was too much to expect at this point in their relationship. In his book, they needed to be in a relationship long enough for him to decide they belonged together (and yes, this included lots of sex too), and not the other way around. How ironic it was that she was operating under the complete opposite assumption. One thing was for sure, there was no way he was rushing into that type of commitment.

Neither was he going to lie to her and tell her what she wanted to hear, that he loved her so that he could get into her panties.

"Do you know what I think?... You're something else...you're the most un-American woman I've ever met," he murmured, his voice laced with frustration. He wasn't sure why he'd said that but he really can't think of a better response. One thing was for sure, he was sticking by his principles.

Ana narrowed her eyes. She's not sure what to make of such a statement. "Is that supposed to be a compliment or what?

She was not satisfied with that. It wasn't enough. She needed the security of knowing that he loved her and that nothing between them could ever go wrong.

Anything less would be unacceptable. She rose to leave the room.

He reached for her arm to stop her. "Ana. I'm sorry, I didn't mean to offend you. You're unique and exotic. Yes, you're un-American but in a good way. That's what I...what I _like_ about you." He'd been about to say 'love' but changed it to 'like' at the last minute. Whew, that was a close one!

"I'm not mad...it's just that there's nothing else to say," she murmured, unable to meet his gaze. She hopelessly in love with this man. Yet, she couldn't confess loving him, he had to be the first one to say it.

"I should have told him," Ana murmured to herself once she was alone in the master bedroom. "I should have asked him what happens after the interview," she berated herself. When it came down to it, that was her greatest fear, that Christian would tire of her after a short while, and she would end up being nothing more than a two-week romance.

* * *

...

That night, Ana got in bed intending to read on her phone for a little while, but that little while soon turned into two and a half hours.

At a little past midnight Ana the phone aside. Wow. That little device was quite addictive, wasn't it? No wonder everyone seemed so spellbound by it; it was so easy to get lost in it, clicking from one link to the next without realizing how much time was passing by. There was always more to read, more to explore.

Reading about BDMS had led her to explore at length the topic of sex. She couldn't believe the sheer amount of information out there. The stuff she'd read for sure would make the nuns back home cross themselves many times over. Picturing the look on their faces brought a big grin the size of mars to her face.

She was still thinking of the scandalized look on their faces ( just because it was insanely hilarious) when she stumbled upon the word masturbation. Naturally, she gravitated from one link to another like a child opening a mountain of presents and who quickly wants to find out what's next.

One of the websites openly talked about what the writer considered to be a healthy sexuality. According to the author, it was perfectly healthy to touch yourself and learn more about your body. Ana paused to reflect on this. She had to admit ever since Christian had touched her down there, she'd wondered what it would be like to feel like that again.

At the same time, she became acutely aware of how much her own culture had created a taboo around everything related to sex. Not only that, but it also frowned upon the idea of experimenting with your own sexuality with cautionary tales of eternal condemnation. That had been the extent of her sex education. Conversations with her peers had been less enlightening, they were mostly full of fantasy and false information, she'd found. Her biology textbook at school limited itself to discussing the reproductive organs and their functions.

Her curiosity, however, was greater than guilt and shame, and it easily won the battle. She continued reading like a woman on a mission, determined to cast her innocence aside.

Her eyes widened when she discovered the many sex toys available. And the idea of using a removable shower head to masturbate. She leaped into action and checked. Sure enough, the thing was removable. Good. It seemed like she was in luck!

Standing under the shower, she set the showerhead a few inches away from her vagina. At first, it was too intense. She was about to give it up when it started feeling REALLY good. She'd found that keeping steady pressure on it was best rather than try to draw circles or go up in down as the website suggested. Soon, the build-up was surging forward, the sensations verging between pleasure and pain. She pressed on and shuddered overcome by a powerful orgasm. _Ay, Dios_ , she breathed. How she wanted this again and again. She gave herself three powerful orgasms and only stopped because it seemed like chasing the fourth orgasm turned out to be elusive.

She turned the water off and quickly dried herself. She lay back on the bed on top of the covers. Still chasing that fourth orgasm, she started touching her clitoris while caressing her nipple with her other hand. She found that low key playful touching worked as long as she applied deep pressure to her nipple, it brought a more mild and yet pleasurable orgasm. Her fingers continued to their way along her inner labia as well as along the sides of her clitoris to the entrance of her vagina.

She raised her brows in surprise at the moisture that accumulated there. So these were the so-called juices that flowed so readily in romantic encounters the romance novels she'd read. She knew the female body produced wetness when aroused but she always assumed the juices referred back to the male sperm.

But now she knew better!

Ana debated with herself. How could something that felt so wonderful be wrong? She'd come this far already in her sex education, she might as well learn everything there was to know. Bringing her index finger to her lips, she saw that it was good, and that there was nothing to be ashamed of.

Having satisfied her curiosity, she shifted to the topic of birth control ( just in case something did happen between her and Christian). Because of what had happened to her mother, Ana believed getting pregnant out of wedlock was the worst fate. From the time she was in 6th grade, however, she'd learned of countless unwanted pregnancies. Invariably, the girls in question seemed baffled. How could this have happened, they bemoaned. It was always the same story again and again. Different names and different faces, same story nonetheless.

In time, Ana came to realize what all the girls had in common. Somehow, they all held on to the same fantasy. Pregnancy. That was something that happened to other people, they thought, and because of this, they acted 'betrayed' when it actually happened to them.

Ana knew better. Her goal in life became to make sure there were no unplanned pregnancies in her future. At all costs, she needed to prevent this from happening. She was smart, she had a plan, and she reminded herself of every time she came in contact with a potential boyfriend. In early teens that meant no kissing. It wasn't until recently that she got wiser. After years of listening to mami's cautionary tales which consisted of avoiding the opposite sex altogether, she'd finally told her what sex was in a hushed mortified tone.

A heavy silence descended. And the subject was never brought up again unless accompanied by an admonition of some sort.

Well, that's easy, Ana thought when she learned the truth. Now more than ever, she was determined she would never, EVER have sex.

Some of her friends teased her and told her she would end up all alone knitting baby booties in her golden years for other people's babies. Ana just laughed, convinced her plan was for the best.

Presently, she kept on reading. The more she read, the more she realized how little did she know about birth control. After much research, she was close to coming to a decision. She liked the idea of getting the depo shot and not having to worry about taking a pill every day. It seemed like the most sensible choice as she wouldn't need to worry about missing a dose.

Next thing, she was dialing the doctor's number. Even though it was the weekend, the doctor's office had an answering service. The woman on the other end of the line was happy to book her for her appointment but Ana hesitated. She couldn't decide without Christian... after all, he was the one driving, unless Mia took her to this appointment. Perhaps it would be best she asked Mia as Christian wouldn't have to miss time from work.

* * *

…...

Ana found Mia perched on the couch in the living room reading a Harlequin novel.

"Mia, can you take me to a doctor's appointment on Monday at 2:00 pm?"

Mia shrugged one shoulder. "Sure."

Ana then finished up the call. She was happy she'd managed to make this appointment all by herself without any help whatsoever.

"Is it a good book?" She asked, grabbing a pillow to her chest and sitting beside her.

"It's the best," Mia grinned. "You can borrow it after I'm finished, I only have a couple of pages to go."

While Mia read, Ana daydreamed.

Perhaps her life was turning out to be a bit like a traditional romance novel.

Was she lonely bookworm longing to the live the life depicted in these racy Harlequin novels? She sighed. She'd read a few but none of them were descriptive enough about the sexual act. She was familiar with the vocabulary though, as she'd read a little over twenty of these novels in English.

She'd first discovered the novels when she was fifteen, long before her sex talk with her grandmother. Almost by accident she'd stumbled into this shoddy used bookstore tucked in a corner, away from foot traffic. Its faded sign above the door said: Libreria Americana. Ana was sure she'd struck gold when she discovered it sold books in English. Over the course of the next few months, she'd browsed every section of the store at her leisure, bypassing the classics. In the end, it was the romance section that held her attention.

The Harlequin romance novel selection was huge, three long shelves from top to bottom in the back of the store. Ana spent many hours there reading, previewing them before she purchased them. The novels she read were not very explicit; they were older paperback editions from the 1980s. They were dog eared, the print impossibly small. Ana didn't mind. She devoured them, staying up to read them all night. And she hid them under her pillow so that Mami wouldn't know. They were her guilty pleasure, she couldn't get enough of them.

* * *

….

It was Mia's idea that they spend their Sunday taking Ana sightseeing. Seattle had so many beautiful places to explore.

And so they took the underneath the streets of Seattle city tour. The tour guide gave them a brief history of Seattle's past. Christian walked beside Ana, one hand protectively on the small of her back as they wandered through dark underground passages. He was thrilled to see Ana reaching for his hand as they approached a spooky area of the tour.

They emerged shortly after with Mia stopping to examine the three skeletons hanging on a wall surrounded by a flower arrangement. "What's up with that?" She wondered out loud.

The tour guide ignored the comment and dove deeply into a lengthy narrative of the native American culture. "The Salish lived well, they were accomplished hunters but were dependent on the weather and had fierce competition from enemy tribes. The buffalo was a generous provider for the Salish people and yet, unlike common misconceptions, tribal elders were adamant about respecting the buffalo as well as other animals and plants in the community. This picture depicts the coyote as the trickster figure of Salish mythology. He's is foolish and boastful, a hilarious combination as you can imagine. Coyote frequently dies in the course of his adventures, often in humorous ways, but each time his patient friend Fox, by some accounts his brother, restores him to life."

Ana smiled. "That reminds me a little of Coyote and the Road Runner and how Coyote gets killed and yet he keeps coming back again and again."

"Except that in this case, the coyote of the Salish legends is often a well-meaning creature who usually acts for the good of mankind."

"Interesting," Ana mumbled. "I'm interested in reading these stories."

"You can pick up a book at our gift shop at the end of the tour," the tour guide quickly offered.

Ana followed Christian's gaze as he looked up at the blue skylights on the ceiling dating back to the 1800s. It was cool to see people walking above at street level from down below this underground area.

After the tour was over, they stopped by the gift shop and picked up a few souvenirs. Christian bought Ana an American Indian legend book which featured the coyote called Salish Myths and Legends.

"You two are quite the lovebirds," Mia observed coming right behind them, smiling. Christian was standing close to Ana peering over her shoulder as she flipped over the pages of the book.

Upon hearing that, Christian suddenly pulled the book from her hand and placed it somewhere on the shelf. In the next moment, he pulled her into her arms and kissed her squarely on the lips. Ana responded by returning the kiss and wrapping her arms around his neck. The kiss literally took her breath away and left her weak in the knees.

"What was that about?" Ana asked when Mia was out of earshot.

"We're supposed to be newlyweds, remember?" He said with his arms resting possessively around her waist.

Ana narrowed her eyes. So this was all for show? For Mia's benefit? "Thank you, Christian, for bringing us here," she said deciding to ignore that. "It was fun."

"I enjoyed it too," he grinned back. "I love spending time with you like this...low key, no pressure."

"No pressure, huh?" She nodded pointedly. "That explains everything."

He raised one brow. "Explains what?"

"Your commitment phobia. In Cuba, we have a name for guys like you who like to flirt but then run away, 'echan pila'," she murmured half-playful, half-serious.

Christian stared at her intently for a long time. "In America, we have a saying I like: true love does not demand, it waits."

Ana looked over at Mia who was now standing at a corner of the store furiously texting. ""I don't think that's exclusively American. Actually, I think that's a slogan used to promote sexual abstinence," she said with the tiniest of smirks.

"That's not the point," he countered, doing his best to remain cool and collected but it was becoming increasingly difficult. This woman was infuriating. Maddening. Irritating as hell. "True love waits. That means that it takes time for a love relationship to develop." There, he thought. Who could possibly argue against that?

"Fine. Then, in that case, it goes both ways, doesn't it? I don't pressure you but then you can't pressure me either," she replied proudly, amazed at herself for coming up with a clever comeback so quickly.

"Me? Pressuring you? Christian cocked his head, half-amused. "And how is it that I'm doing that?"

Ana looked furtively around her before answering. "You know...sex?"

"So you want me to stop pressuring you?" he chuckled low in his throat. "With sex?" he murmured, his mischievous tone especially designed to make her blush.

Feeling her cheeks redden, she once again looked around her, making sure they were not being overheard.

"I think I've been a 'good' boy in that department. If you haven't noticed, I've been sleeping in the guest room for a few days now." The minute he said the last sentence, he regretted it. It made him sound like a whining fool. And right now, all he cared about was winning this...whatever the hell it was they had going on.

Ana looked away, half-annoyed, half mortified. She missed sleeping next to him so much but she wasn't about to tell him that.

"So you got nothing to worry about, sweetheart... there will be no more 'pressure' coming from me any time soon," he replied more harshly than he intended, the intensity in his tone surprising her.

 **RESPONSE TO REVIEWS:**

 **GUEST ( OCT 3 )** : I used your comment about Ana being un-American in this chapter. Yes, I also love Ana's strong values. I wrote this chapter thinking I needed to show exactly where Ana was coming from and the cultural messages she received when she was growing up.

 **Vnss:** I got a double review from you! I'm glad that FF is back to allowed two from the same person ;)

 **JB:** Like most readers, you also thought that Mia is up to no good except that you also acknowledged her good side. I think it's important to keep this in mind as you read.

 **Swimming:** Thanks for reading and commenting. Yes, Mia is a bit klepto, it's a bit more than just shop lifting.

 **Dseiladmnd:** Your comments heavily influenced the writing of this chapter ;) Baby steps, yes, that's what makes the most steps for them considering Ana's age and her innocence and her old-fashioned values.

 **GUEST (Oct 9th)** : Your comment about Mia being a childishly open and yet sweet stayed with me. I wonder if there are others that share this view?

 **Hummergirlnv** : Interesting. Well, I hadn't planned any ex's coming back drama. I'm big on that, but I suppose I could if I had a good reason although I don't see that happening in this story. Still, I probably should refrain from saying never as I never know exactly where a story might take me especially because I write one chapter at a time and take a lot of my ideas from readers.

 **Ajal2007:** :D Thanks so much for the huge compliment!

 **Dimka's Chick, Sgtbm & Zeeulove**: What can I say? It's going to take a little longer, so stay tuned!

 **EVERYONE:**

Most of you thought that Mia was bad news and that she wasn't going to give the hair clip back to Ana. More on Mia later on and whether Ana is going to tell Christian.

This is all I have for now. I'm a bit stuck/undecided on what to write next. Send me your comments if you want. Tell me what you like about the story, what you'd like to see more of. What made you decide to click on this story and start reading? Has this story surprised you, if so, in what ways? Thanks for letting me pick your brain. Often your comments do help getting my muse fired up again.

 **If it takes me a while to come back it's because I'm still stuck. Please bear with me!**


	21. Chapter 21

****A/N: Very light editing on this chapter****

Chapter twenty

In the next moment, Christian turned around and pulled the book they'd looked at earlier off the bookshelf. "Do you want this?"

Ana shrugged, she wasn't thinking about the book, she was still reeling about their little argument. She still had no idea how this had happened; one minute they'd been kissing passionately and the next they were arguing about who was pressuring whom.

"It looks like a good book, but it's also pricey."

"If I got it for you, would you want to read it?"

"Yes, it's an interesting book but you don't have to get it."

"Okay, we gotta get going," Christian said, taking the book to the register. On his way there, his eyes did a quick scan, looking for his sister. At once, his eyes connected with hers.

"Hey, what's going on between you and Ana? Did you just have a little argument?"

"It's no big deal.

Nothing for you to worry your pretty little head about," Christian mumbled. "Hey, are you getting that?" He said referring to a stuffed bear wearing a green shirt that said: __Seattle underground tour.__

"No, I'm not. But you should," Mia retorted pointedly.

"What? What would I do with something like that?" Christian scoffed.

Mia shook her head. "It's not for you, you dummy, it's for her," she said looking at Ana.

Christian exhaled and rolled his eyes. He then extended his hand to Mia who then deposited the stuffed animal into his waiting hand. He wasted no time taking the bear and book to the register. By the time Ana approached them, his purchase was already in the bag so she didn't get to see what he'd purchased.

"Let's go eat something," Christian said and they headed for the bar outside the gift shop.

It wasn't until they were seated at the table that Christian told Ana he'd gotten her the book.

"Oh, you didn't have to do that," Ana said a little mortified.

"I wanted to get you something," Christian said, his gaze shifting between Mia and Ana. "Please stop being so modest. That's what husbands do, they get gifts for their wives."

"It's just..." she hesitated. "Okay, thank you," she smiled, all too aware that Mia was staring at them with an odd proving expression.

* * *

….

the next morning

Ana was in the kitchen cooking breakfast when Mia, dressed in her pajamas, came to sit at the kitchen counter.

"Good morning. Christian is not up yet?"

"Good morning, Mia," Ana said as she chopped some tomatoes. She was getting ready to stir them in with the eggs. "I think he's showering."

Mia exhaled loudly. "Okay, are you finally going to level with me? What's going on between you and Christian?"

Ana stepped back, the question caught her off guard, and she'd nearly cut herself with the knife. She turned around and faced Mia, her back against the counter.

"What do you mean?"

Mia gave her a long knowing look before answering. "Well, for one, you two don't sleep together in the same room. And it wasn't just last night. This has been going on for a while."

Ana stared at Mia in disbelief. She thought she and Christian had been so careful in making it seem like they were still sleeping in the same room. Christian usually didn't retire to the guest room until well after Mia had retired to her own room.

"Okay, so you want the truth, here it is," Ana said after a long while. "Ours is a fake marriage, Christian only married me because I was in trouble and it was the only way he could get me out of Cuba."

A long awkward silence followed. "Wow. You're not kidding, are you?"

Ana sighed, feeling relieved the truth was out in the open. "We're only together until my INS interview and then we will part ways."

"No way, I don't believe that."

"It's the truth. Ours is a marriage of convenience."

"No, not that part. I meant I don't believe you will just part ways. You obviously care a great deal about each other," Mia paused, giving Ana a minute to think about this. "He cares about you, Ana, the way he looks at you," she shook her head thoughtfully. "I know my brother."

"Oh, NO!" Ana turned around when she heard the sizzling sound the skillet was making. But it was too late, her eggs were now irreversibly stuck to the pan.

"You burned your eggs...sorry about that," Mia bit her lip regretfully.

Ana didn't give the cooking a second thought. She took the skillet off the burner and came to sit across from Mia.

"Your brother has been wonderful. He's a great guy and you're right, he cares about me. But that's not enough for a marriage. You know what I mean? He doesn't love me like a man loves a woman." This was painful to admit, but she wasn't one to lie to herself, and the sooner she accepted this, the less painful in the long run.

Mia shook her head and cluck her tongue. "Ah, no. I beg to differ. Oh, Ana. He's in love with you...any fool would be able to see that."

Ana let out a chuckle. "Then I must be the greatest fool of all," she shook her head dismissively.

Right then, Christian appeared clad in a business suit, his hair still wet from the shower. At once, he knew something was up and Ana decided at once to bring him up to speed and forgo her usual morning greeting.

"Christian... I told Mia about our arrangement."

Christian was floored but he quickly recovered, in his business he had to be able to think on his feet. "You can't tell anyone, Mia."

Mia was outraged. "Of course not, who do you take me for?"

"After the interview, the INS will investigate further if they have reason to suspect our marriage is fake," Christian explained. "They will interview family and friends if necessary," his gaze shifted to Ana. "We're hoping we'll be able to pass the interview without arousing suspicion."

"You can count on me," Mia replied, her fingers pulling a mock zipper around her mouth.

Christian stared at Mia, his gaze cold and accusatory. "I got a text from mom this morning bemoaning about the wedding...I assume that was you who let the cat out of the bag."

Mia laughed nervously. "Oh, yeah. Well, she asked me about you. Did you want me to lie? Besides, if it got you two talking to each other again, maybe it was a good thing," she said batting her lashes innocently. "It's about time you all put the past behind you anyway."

"Mia, mom cannot know about this, you understand?" Christian urged her and Ana nodded.

"Mia, please, don't tell her about the arrangement," Ana mumbled.

"Of course, I wouldn't do that," Mia looked at both of them, mildly offended.

Christian gave his sister a dubious look. "Listen, I got to go to work, I'm late for a meeting...I'm trusting that you will indeed keep this to yourself, sis."

"Christian? you can't leave without breakfast!" Ana said, looking so devastated it gave Christian pause. She looked behind her, a little flustered. "I burned what I was cooking but I'm sure I can...just give me a few minutes and I'm sure,"

she trailed off as Christian was already shaking his head no.

"How about I just have some cereal?" He said helping himself to the milk in the fridge. "Would that make you happy?" he added pulling a box of Raising Bran from the cupboard.

While he was doing that, Mia pulled three bowls and spoons and brought them to the table.

"How about we all have cereal this morning?" Mia said in a chirpy tone.

"So what did your mother say?" Ana asked Christian earnestly while they ate.

"You mean other than her being disappointed in me for not telling her I got married? Not much really, just the same comments over and over," he paused, his gaze intensely focused on Ana. "Well, okay, she did say she wanted to meet you."

"Oh..." Ana stammered. "Meet me?"

"Yes, she wants to call you," Christian looked around to the area on the counter, the designated areas for cell phones. His phone and Mia's were next to each other. "Where's your phone?" He asked Ana.

Ana shrugged.

"You don't know?" Christian stared at her in disbelief. He always knew where his phone was at all times. Having long forgotten his experience in Cuba, he couldn't imagine his life being any other way. "When was the last time you used it?"

"I don't remember," Ana quickly replied, not meeting his gaze. The last time she'd used it, she'd been in her room educating herself about sex, and she wasn't about to admit to that.

"Well, you better find it. My mom is going to be calling you." He got up, gathered his phone and keys. "I really gotta go. "By the way, your dad has been sending me text messages wondering why you've been ignoring him. I wouldn't have mentioned it, except it's getting really annoying."

….

Ana retrieved her phone and handed it over to Mia to help her with the text messaging.

"Whoa! Oh, Ana...you've been a very naughty girl!" Mia laughed as she browsed through all the websites Ana had left open.

Ana blushed scarlet and reached for the phone, mortified. There had to be a way to keep this stuff secret. In a childish gesture, Mia refused to hand her the phone back and Ana had to chase her all around the apartment for it. Both of them wound up on the couch, exhausted and roaring with laughter.

All of a sudden, the phone rang.

"Hi, mom!" Mia answered cheerfully. "Yes, Ana is right here," she winked at her.

Ana took a deep breath, she hoped her voice wouldn't sound as shaky as she felt. "Hello? Mrs. Grey, it's so nice meeting you."

"Oh, darling please call me Grace."

Ana hesitated, to her calling her mother-in-law by her first name was a sign of disrespect. "Can I call you Mrs. Grace?"

Mia came to sit beside Ana on the couch and put the call on speakerphone. Grace laughed right at that moment and the sound of her laughter filled the room.

"Well, if you must. Ana, your voice sounds really sweet. I wish I could see your face. Is Mia there? Can you ask her to set it up?"

"I'm here, mom," Mia said, "It will be just a moment," she went on as she set up the call on her iphone.

A moment later, Ana and Mia stared as the older woman's face filled the screen. She was smiling as she motioned for her husband to say hi.

"Mia! Ana, nice to meet you," Carrick said, popping in beside his wife. "This has been quite a surprise. Mia told us a bit about you," he cocked his head thoughtfully. "There's one thing though, what was Christian doing in Cuba?"

"She can't tell you, dad, Christian was on a secret mission," Mia quickly replied with a wink. Both Grace and Carrick nodded their heads and smiled.

"Well, actually...my father hired Christian to bring me to the United States," Ana said. At least this part of the story was true.

"And you know how it goes, destiny knocked on their door and they fell in love," Mia chimed in eagerly, "and the rest is history."

…

Afterward, Mia helped Ana sort through the dozens of text messages that she'd received the last couple of days. Some had been from Christian and some from her father.

"But why leave me dozens of text messages?" Ana wondered out loud, especially since she wasn't answering them. "Why didn't he just call me?"

Ana was surprised to learn that according to Mia, most people expected a reply to their text messages within a couple of hours at the most, and that using a phone for actual phone calls had become obsolete. Ana shook her head. If she went by society's expectations, carrying around a smartphone meant the end of her carefree life as she knew it. She could see the writing on the wall; she would become a slave to her phone and her choices would no longer be her own.

"Your father is inviting you over for dinner tonight," Mia handed Ana her phone back. "You're going to text him back, right?"

"Text him? Of course not!" Ana said. "I'm going to call him instead.

"Okay, put him on speakerphone, then," Mia grinned.

Moments later, a confused Ray answered the call. "Ana?"

"Yes, father, it's me. Do you have a moment?"

"Huh. Well, I was in the middle of something."

"This will only take a moment."

"Huh. Well, okay. It was about time. I've been trying to get in touch with you for days."

"Why didn't you just call?"

Ray cleared his throat, a bit flustered. "I texted you."

"Text messages are too impersonal."

He decided to ignore that. "Are you coming over tonight?"

"Depends," Ana answered nonchalantly.

"Depends? Depends on what?"

"Does this invitation include Christian too?" Ana glanced over at Mia. "And his sister Mia?"

Ray hesitated. "Of course, they're both welcome to come."

"Perfect. See you at six."

It wasn't until after she hung up that she realized she hadn't even asked Christian yet. She really hoped this last-minute invitation was okay with him.

* * *

….

Christian wasn't thrilled about visiting Ray's family but it seemed important to Ana. She'd called him earlier in the day to ask him. He got home a little earlier than normal and found Ana in the living room watching TV. He assumed Mia was in her room getting ready.

She was smiling at the TV screen watching The Flintstones in the living room. After a brief greeting, he went to his room to retrieve the stuffed bear from his room. Then, he came around and placed the bear behind her on the top edge of the couch as though the stuffed animal was gazing down at her.

As soon as Ana turned, she saw Christian's face sneaking up behind the bear. She smiled in response.

"Hello, Ana," he stroked the stuffed animal's fur softly against her cheek and her smile widened. "I got a confession to make."

Ana's smiled faded a little and Christian came around to sit by her on the couch, placing the bear on Ana's lap. "I hope you like him."

"I do. It's cute," she regarded him thoughtfully, stroking the stuffed bear's fur. "What's going on Christian?"

"You know how I said I'd had a few relationships with women? I lied. I haven't really had any REAL relationships." Yes, I've been with a few women since what happened with Elena and the clubs but nothing that lasted." Christian exhaled. He didn't know why he'd lied except that he'd wanted her to see him as a regular man and not a freak. Truth was, he had no idea what it was like to be in a relationship with a woman. In fact, he'd never kissed anyone on the lips before Ana, it felt too intimate and personal. One woman he'd slept with had kicked him out when he refused to kiss her on the lips.

He scooted closer to her on the couch and reached out. His hand landed on her waist. "I just didn't want you to think of me a loser, it's silly, I know."

Ana blinked twice, all too aware of his touch. She looked into his eyes and felt lost in his depths. His candid confession made him more approachable, humble, and possibly more vulnerable. In all, it was an irresistible combination.

In one long stride, he tugged her flush against him. "You're the first woman I've ever kissed," he murmured, his forehead flush against hers, "and I've loved every second of it."

The quiet possessiveness of his words and the wistfulness in his voice filled her heart with a torrent of emotions. Here in his arms, she felt a sense of rightness; the way he was looking at her connected to her at a deep level. And for a moment, that was all that mattered. The thoughts continued playing in her head as he leaned his head down and nipped at the curve of her neck. His hand quickly slid under her shirt and skimmed the side of her breast and she couldn't contain the gasp that escaped. Instead of moving his hand away, she guided it until it cupped her breast fully over her bra.

His lips abandoned her neck and leaned in to brush her lips. His mouth opened over hers, his tongue slipping out to tickle the seam of her lips until she opened for him. Heat and fire raced through her loins, driving her mad with a need she didn't understand.

"God," he growled, "I need you," he lifted her into his arms bride style intending to take her to the bedroom, and she panicked.

"Please don't...I can't!" She shook her head. No, no. "I thought you said you wouldn't pressure me."

"Okay, fine," he said, annoyed to be reminded of that at the moment. He had to get a grip and come up with a good comeback. He ran his hand through his hair and exhaled deeply. "The way I see it, this is gonna happen sooner or later and you're just delaying it, that's all you're doing." He rose to his feet and glanced at his watch. "We've better get ready for the dinner party."

Ana opened her mouth to speak but it was too late, Christian had already left. She just couldn't do it, she couldn't just give herself to him, not when there was a risk of a possible pregnancy. This morning, she'd received a call from the doctor's office canceling her appointment and rescheduling for next week. She bit her lip, maybe she should tell him?

No, what was the point? He still wouldn't understand. She just couldn't risk it, throw her whole life away for one moment of passion like her mother had done. Carla paid a high price for her mistake, many doors that were previously opened closed the minute she found herself pregnant at the young age of fifteen, she became damaged goods. She became sexually active seeking personal freedom from her old-fashioned parents, but then in a tragic twist of fate, she lost all the freedom she had and more when she was forced to leave behind the life that she knew. The bottom line was that Carla never truly adapted to her life in Cuba, and Ana had taken her story to heart, vowing to never repeat the same mistake. It was the least she could do to honor her mother's memory.

….

In any event, she didn't get another chance to speak privately with Christian. He'd gone to the guest room and she went to the master bedroom to get dressed for the party. And then Mia had knocked on her door, wanting to see what she was wearing for the party. She'd stood there for the longest time; even though the outfits Christian had gifted were gorgeous, she suspected if she wore anything she presently owned, she would be under-dressed for this event.

"Gee, Ana. You really have nothing to wear for this party, do you?" Mia declared after taking a peek into her closet. "Come," she said leading the way to her bedroom.

Mia's closet was impressive, it had something for every occasion. One thing was for sure, Mia didn't travel light.

"Oh, Ana, I think this will be perfect," Mia said pulling out a gorgeous red satiny dress with puffy sleeves. "Try it on, see how it fits."

"Oh, my. Wouldn't it be too fancy?"

"What?" Mia chuckled. "Are you kidding me? From what I gathered your father lives in a freaking mansion."

* * *

…

Christian's eyes nodded appreciatively when he saw Ana in Mia's dress. "You look gorgeous, Ana."

Ana beamed. "Thank you."

Mia cleared her throat. "And what am I, sandpaper?"

Christian reluctantly peeled his eyes away from Ana and shifted to his sister. "You look beautiful too, sis."

"Ah, thanks!" Mia smiled triumphantly, she was really looking forward to this dinner party.

* * *

…

In the car

"So how did your conversation with my mother turn out?" Christian asked Ana, turning to look at her briefly before his eyes returned to the road. "What did she say?"

"It was a good conversation," Ana replied. "I talked to your father too. They seemed nice. They talked about visiting us for Thanksgiving."

"But Thanksgiving is just around the corner."

"I know, it will be great," Mia chimed in from the backseat. "What did you expect, Chris? They're dying to meet Ana in person."

"Of course," Christian thought. The INS interview was in one week and Thanksgiving was two weeks after that.

"If I'm still here, that is," Ana murmured quietly.

"What? What did you say?" Christian turned to stare at Ana, his eyes widening.

"Well...the interview is before Thanksgiving."

"So?"

There was a long silence.

"I think Ana means that the charade will be over by then," Mia translated, glaring at Christian, willing him to correct her statement.

"Ana..." Christian spoke, making sure to make full eye contact with Ana, "I don't know what you're thinking...but you're not going anywhere after the interview, you're not getting rid of me that easily!"

Ana's heart leaped at the possessiveness in his words. "I'm not?" She stammered stupidly.

"No, of course not. I was reading about this the other day. Most likely, you will be granted temporary immigrant status at the interview. We will need to wait another year and appear together at a second interview for you to get permanent resident status."


	22. Chapter 22

****A/N:****

 ** **Light editing for this chapter, mistakes are all mine.****

Chapter twenty-one

 _ _Ana, I don't know what you're thinking, you're not getting rid of me that easily!__

His words hung in the air like a big cloud of thick smoke. He had meant to sound reassuring, that they were going to be together for the long haul, but Ana interpreted it as a slap in the face. His body language said it all, he was annoyed, he clearly resented the possibility of being stuck with her for the long haul.

"What do you mean I'm not getting rid of __you__?"

It wasn't until he heard his own words repeated back to him that he realized his blunder. He'd been so intensely frustrated, he'd inadvertently blurted out what he'd been thinking. Everything he'd done in the last 24 hours had been a big flop. First, he'd admitted about not having kissed anyone before, hoping that his confession would show how special she was to him but his words had failed to sweep her off her feet. And then, he truly had put his foot in his mouth when he'd stormed off with his 'this is going to happen sooner or later' comment.

"Oh, don't worry, I don't think it will come to that!" Ana spat. The idea of living with someone else out of a sense of obligation for a whole year was preposterous. "Even if the interview doesn't go well...my father says his lawyers can take care of the situation," she said with false bravado. She didn't really have much faith in lawyers but right now but her pride dictated she save face.

"Ana," Mia put a hand over her shoulder. "I don't think Christian meant..."

"Oh, I know what he meant. He doesn't want to be stuck with me but the thing is, this is all a big mistake. I shouldn't even have to apply for this resident visa, I'm an American citizen."

Christian listened quietly, his eyes focused on the road. Right now he wasn't trusting himself much. Anything that came out of his mouth had the potential to come out wrong. In the silence the follow, the stereo played the end of a song and another one started. He reached out his hand to touch the car's touchscreen controls to change the music. For a split second, his eyes flickered away from the road.

"Hey! You just ran that red light! Mia protested.

Ana gasped and made the sign of the cross. __Dios mio santo!__

Shit!" Christian banged the steering wheel, mad at himself for running a red for the first time in his entire life. He couldn't help but feel this was a bad omen for things to come.

* * *

….

Raymond Steele and his family lived in an exclusive gated community. Ana's widened when they pulled up to the booth and the guard asked for their names, and she realized just how wealthy these people were. There had been a car ahead of them and now two or three cars piled behind them. From the look of things, this party was going to be larger affair than she'd imagined, and she resented her father for inviting her to his home for the first time to this dinner party instead of inviting her to a small family gathering first. Perhaps that had been THEIR intention all along, make her feel like another guest, an outsider, rather than a member of the family.

Christian cut the engine and turned to look at Ana. "Judging by how many cars are here, it looks like a big party. You want to turn around and go home?"

"Wh-what? Mia protested. "Are you for real? I've always wanted to be invited to the lifestyles of the rich and famous."

Ana met Christian's gaze. He looked handsome in his light gray dinner jacket and red tie, but as she glanced at the couple parking their vehicle next to theirs, she realized that this was a black-tie affair. She shrugged one shoulder, uncertain as to what to do.

"You know what, the heck with everything. Who cares? If these people wanted formal wear, they should have told us," Christian said.

"Yeah, besides we're family," Mia added and Ana gave her a questioning look. To Ana, this didn't make sense at all. You don't treat family this way, you don't treat family like outsiders.

"Let's just go in," Ana said after a long while. Part of her didn't want to come to this party at all but the other part of her, the strongest part, didn't want to feel like a coward. She was going to face this situation head-on even though she suspected there was more unpleasantness ahead.

As they walked up to the house, Ana was in awe of the stunning Tuscan Mediterranean mansion where her father lived. It had a gorgeous architecture, heavy doors, terracota circular driveway. There was a gorgeous water fountain surrounded by manicured hedges. She took a big breath, and prayed that somehow she managed to survive tonight without making a fool of herself and betray her humble beginnings.

They were greeted at the door by someone who was there for the sole reason of collecting their coats. It was a chilly night so Ana was wearing a dark black cashmere coat that she'd borrowed from Mia and Mia was wearing a similar-looking coat but hers had a soft fur neckline.

…...

Her father was the first one to greet them as they stepped into the foyer. He was accompanied by a tall woman with long dark hair, She was dressed in a long cocktail dress accessorized with flashy earrings which caught the light every time she moved her head.

Ray formally introduced her as his wife Sylvia. The woman regarded everyone coolly as she shook hands.

Ana's heart sank when she was informed that Chloe wasn't there. She was at a friend's house. Apparently, they'd vanished her. She had been counting on her as a buffer to any potential moments of awkwardness.

"This is an adult's only party," Sylvia smiled at her, her smile insincere.

….

Sylvia complimented Mia on her dress. Mia was wearing an elegant dress similar to Ana's, except hers was silver-colored. Sylvia merely nodded at Ana and then immediately offered a tour of the house. Ana and Christian nodded and were about to follow them when Ray intercepted them.

"Come this way," Ray directed Ana and Christian to a private room. Both Ana and Christian stared at Ray with a questioning look as he closed the door behind him.

"Seems like you forgot to inform us this event was a black-tie only," Christian murmured shooting daggers at Raymond, unable to hide his disdain for the man.

"I didn't know until the last minute when Sylvia told me. I did send you a text a little while ago," he said to Ana.

Ana rolled her eyes, feeling insulted. "I haven't looked at my phone in hours." How hard was it to actually dial her number?

"I suggest you call her next time," Christian said, secretly amused.

"Well, it's no problem really," Ray turned to Christian and studied him for a moment. "My tailor can have you fitted with a tuxedo in no time."

Christian considered it for a moment. "You know what, I think I'll pass."

Ana was mildly intrigued by Christian's refusal and Ray raised his brows in surprise.

"Are you sure?"

"Absolutely." His motto didn't include caring about people think of him.

Ray turned to Ana. "I have something for you," he said pulling out of his pocket a rectangular velvety case.

"For me?" She mumbled stunned.

"They're Cartier," he told her as she opened the case. Inside were a pair of the most gorgeous diamond drop earrings she'd ever seen.

"I...I don't know what to say," she said barely above a whisper. She considered not accepting the earrings to get back at her father for the way he'd treated her, but then she reconsidered. Right now she was wearing a pair of stud gold earrings that Mia had let her borrow. They were cute but not nearly as fancy as these. For once, Ana wanted to shine tonight. She wanted to inspire admiration, not pity. "Thank you," she said simply gazing into her father's eyes coolly and Ray nodded, giving himself a pat in the back.

"I must say, you look lovely tonight, Annie," Ray smiled approvingly.

Ana moved to one desk in the room, set down her clutch and proceeded to change her earrings while Ray and Christian watched.

"I'm happy you're here tonight," Ray said.

Having finished fastening her new earrings, Ana turned to look at her father with a determined expression. "Are you? It seems to me, maybe it would have been better for me to have stayed back in Cuba."

Ray stared back at her in shock and Christian's eyes widened in admiration. He did love that about Ana, her outspoken tendencies. It was so refreshing in this day and age where most people where overly consumed with outward appearances and making the right impression.

"Annie," Ray shook his head, annoyed, "how can you say something like that?"

"It's the truth. Ever since I arrived, I've been a nuisance to you and your wife."

"That's not true. I love you, Annie," he kept shaking his head, " I've always wanted the best for you. Being here in this country, your country...is the best for you. This is your home, this is where you belong."

"Is it?" Her eyes quickly scanned her surroundings. "I don't think I belong here, but I'm here already so I'm going to make the best of it. Still, I don't understand why you just didn't let me stay home with mami."

For once, Ray was at a loss of words. Truth was, by the time Sylvia had informed him she didn't want Anastasia living with them, he couldn't just ask Christian to abort the mission. Christian was already in Cuba. Ray shook his head. Besides, he truly believed living in the United States was the best for Ana, he'd wanted to give her a shot at the American dream. It puzzled him that she didn't seem to appreciate all he'd done for her.

He opened his mouth to speak again but right then, Sylvia and Mia entered the room.

"We were wondering when you all were going to join us for the rest of the tour," Sylvia said. She then looked at her husband. "Actually, dear, I need to tend to the rest of our guests. Why don't you finish the tour?" She said with a fake smile and Ray nodded dutifully.

"Yes, dear."

…

After a short tour, Ray guided them to the main living room where a large group was standing around in groups of three or four people. Waiters passed by with appetizers and trays of champagne. Almost everyone turned to look at them as they entered. Ray grabbed a glass of champagne and moved to the center of the room.

"Ladies and gentlemen, may I have your attention," Ray announced, clicking his glass with a spoon, "We are gathered here in honor of my daughter Anastasia and her husband Christian," he said stretching his hand out to Ana.

Ana instinctively turned to Christian, her hand outstretched for him to take, and he took it, clasping it firmly and warmly in his. She found his touch immensely reassuring. And for a fraction of a second, she held his gaze and was instinctively reminded of how they'd held hands at the airport when they were escorted back for their preliminary INS interview.

 _ _"I'm your talisman."__ He'd told her then, right before they were separated into different rooms. And she had truly believed it, had hung to his words like a lifesaver.

 _ _Don't forget, Ana.__

Together they walked up to stand next to Ray.

"Don't they make a beautiful couple?" Ray smiled. In one seamless movement, he motioned for the waiter to bring champagne to both Ana and Christian. "Let's toast Anastasia and Christian, may the sun always shine on this beautiful couple, and may their hopes and dreams be fulfilled."

Ana watched everyone raised their glass and sipped their champagne before she tried a sip of hers in slow motion. The scene before her seemed to have been taken straight out of a storybook. She shook her head, thinking maybe it was all a dream, and none of this was really happening.

…..

After the toast, Ray introduced Ana and Christian to several people with Sylvia by his side. Mia had found a special someone, one of Raymond's lawyers. She and Ethan had hit it off right away and were openly flirting with each other, and acting as if the rest of the world didn't exist.

"So Anastasia, how are you enjoying Seattle?" A woman in the group asked her after learning that Ana was from Cuba.

"It's a nice city," Ana answered vaguely, adding something about the Seattle underground tour.

"Life in Cuba must be so different from over here," she prompted, clearly fishing for more details, "isn't it?"

Ana refused to take the bait; she wasn't about to speak ill of the country she left behind. "Indeed. I do miss Cuba terribly. I love the food and the people there are so caring and personable, there's no place like it," she said with a wistful expression.

Some of the people in the group nodded their heads, others simply stared with blank expressions. Christian was half-listening to Ana's answers as he was involved in a conversation of his own with someone else. He did immediately notice Ana getting a little tense beside him when Sylvia suddenly said something about Harvard.

"Of course Chloe knows is Harvard is the only option for her."

"How about you, Anastasia," the woman continued to ask Ana. "what are your plans for your education? Are you also attending Harvard?"

Suddenly, Ana felt heads turning to look at her, everyone including Sylvia, Christian, and her father.

"I... haven't decided yet."

"Oh, dear," someone else commented. "Well, don't take too long to decide, you're only young once."

"Oh, she will be going to Harvard alright," Ray said suddenly with a certain charm, "she just doesn't know it yet."

A few people chuckled.

"Actually, Anastasia is a bright student, excellent grades, she will soon come to her senses."

Ana felt a surge of anger. She found his comments patronizing. Further, how dare he brag about her like this when he'd abandoned her when she needed him most?

"Father, I need you to respect my wishes," Ana said in a tone loud enough for everyone to hear. "I'm a married woman now. I get to make my own choices."

Sylvia and Raymond were speechless, they didn't expect Ana to make waves especially in public.

"Would you excuse us?" Sylvia intervened, her attention shifting from the woman to Ana, "Ana, darling, come, may I have a word?" she asked with a forced smile.

….

Ana blinked. She had no idea why Sylvia had pulled her aside instead of her father. Perhaps what she hated the most was Ray's submissiveness to his wife's will. Out of the corner of her eye, she caught her father's worried gaze as they separated from the group. Yet, he made no motion to intervene. She tried to catch Christian's gaze but he was busy retrieving a second glass of champagne from the waiter.

"Are you always this-this blunt?" The older woman asked in an indignant tone. Ana smiled inwardly, this was the second time someone had asked her this same question in the last few days. The first time it had been Mia and now Sylvia.

"People say my bluntness is one of my best qualities," Ana said with confidence coupled with a small smile.

Sylvia stared at Ana with undisputed disdain. "The way you talked to your father back there was appalling, to say the least. Also, you need to stop acting like this is your first time in his house."

Ana's jab dropped. "But...this is really my first time here."

"Yes," Sylvia murmured between clenched teeth with a fake smile, for the benefit of her other guests. "But that doesn't mean that you must air our dirty laundry in public. You just smile and pretend. Didn't that mother of yours teach you some manners?"

Ana met the other woman's gaze fair and square. Her first instinct was to slap the other woman across the face. She considered it for almost a full minute. She imagined what a scene it would make, imagined being escorted out of the house by her father's security and being labeled persona-non-grata. All of which would accomplish nothing. Worst of all, it would also mean that Sylvia would win, she would get what she wanted, banish her forever.

Instead, she got closer to the other woman without breaking eye contact and said in an emphatic voice, "don't you dare talk about my mother like that again, because next time I won't back down, and I won't care who hears me."

Noticing that something was amiss, Christian moved toward them, his presence breaking off the staring contest between the two women. He came to stand beside Ana and curved his arm around her waist. She responded by shifting closer to him.

"Mrs. Steele," he said to Sylvia.

"Please call me Sylvia," Sylvia smiled a warm smile. It surprised Anastasia. Apparently, the woman's' hostility didn't extend to Christian.

"Shall we step over to the dining room?" Ray said, moving to stand beside his wife. "Dinner is about to be served."

...

The large dining room had four large tables, each one seated twelve people comfortably. Christian, Mia, and Anastasia were led to the main table were Ray and Sylvia were to be seated.

Dinner consisted of a five-course meal with wine pairings chosen by a renowned wine educator from New York. Ana found herself enjoying the wine more than she'd imagined. Her experience with alcohol was limited. Tonight was the first time she'd tried champagne. She'd had wine before, but nothing as fancy as the wine being served.

Beside her, Christian had already drained a glass of wine and his eyes appeared a little glassy. She imagined that the wine in combination with the champagne was starting to take its toll. They loosened his tongue and cracked opened the door to his libido. His hand strayed underneath the table to her thigh, his fingertips reaching for the hem of her dress. She enjoyed his light-fingertip caresses so much she'd found herself wishing his hand would move mere inches away from her core. But he never did, he mostly teased her, making her think he was going there but never quite reaching there.

Ana stifled a gasp here and there. She had to admit, the hot flush that rushed through her was mortifying and thrilling at the same time. She purposely avoided making eye contact with anyone else in the room just in case anyone was able to figure out what was going on underneath the table. She did, however, in her nervousness take a sip of wine at regular intervals to steady herself.

Christian leaned forward to murmur something in her ear. The winds of his warm breath against her ear made her giggle. Emboldened, she played footsie, her barefoot snaking back and forth underneath his pant leg. Her reward was the flicker of shock that briefly registered in those gray eyes of his. It was priceless!

She'd also enjoyed the fact that both both Ray and Sylvia kept shooting disapproving glances in their direction.

Throughout the meal, Ana felt flattered to be the sole object of Christian's attention, as he mostly interacted with her instead of with the person to the other side of him. He was in fact so focused on her, that he didn't notice the twenty-something man sitting two seats behind him and in Ana's direct line of vision. The handsome man kept winking at Ana at every opportunity he got. Ana kept avoiding him but the man was persistent nonetheless.

…..

After dinner, the party hosts announced that dancing would follow in the ballroom. Ana excused herself to the bathroom. She tried to get Mia to come with her, but Mia and Ethan were already acting like two lovers who had decided that the rest of the world had disappeared and it was just the two of them.

While Christian waited for Ana to return, he noticed someone staring at him from across the room. It took him a moment to register who it was as she was wearing considerably more makeup than she normally did back when they were together. Even though she turned away when he caught her staring, there was no mistaking that thin silvery smile of hers.

In no time, he bridged the distance between them and followed her out to a private balcony.

"What are you doing here?" He asked pointedly as she turned around to look at him.

….

When Ana came out of the restroom, she couldn't find Christian or Mia. Her father and Sylvia were mingling with their guests and she had nothing to do but smooth her dress. Luckily, she wasn't overdressed or under-dressed for this event. She shuddered at the thought of what would have happened if Mia hadn't lent her the dress. She would have had to suffer the humiliation of Sylvia offering to lend her something else from her closet. She could picture her so clearly, hovering over her, her trademark superiority complex making Cinderella's stepmother look like Glinda, the Good Witch from the South.

"Hello."

Ana turned at the sound of the mans' voice. It was the same man who had been making eyes at her from across their table.

"My name is James," he said lending her his hand for her to shake.

"I'm Anastasia, but most people call me Ana." She hesitated before shaking his hand.

Right then, a pianist started playing a slow waltz piece. At once, couples flocked to the dance floor.

"May I have this dance?" James asked gallantly.

Once again, Ana hesitated. "I'm married," she quietly informed him even though she knew as her father had made the announcement earlier in the evening.

"I know. I was watching you and your husband at the table," he smiled, his eyes crinkled charmingly. "Your husband, he looks like the kind of man secure enough to tolerate his wife dancing with another man."

Ana giggled in response. Her normal self would have blushed but the alcohol had freed some of her inhibitions. Maybe he was right, maybe there was no harm done? She could dance with this James until Christian came back from wherever he was. Out of the corner of her eyes, she saw Sylvia watching her. Ana couldn't wait to show her she knew how to waltz. Her grandmother had insisted she take waltz lessons when she was thirteen; according to her, knowing how to dance classic waltz was the mark of a well-bred young girl.

If she went by Cuban cultural standards, a wife only dances with her husband and other males are to stay at a respectful distance. The only exception being blood relatives like an uncle or cousins.

But then, she decided on a hunch that this was okay. She'd been upfront about being married so she had won some points for social respectability, even though in reality her marriage to Christian was a sham, a masquerade. A real marriage happens ONLY when two people are joined together in mutual LOVE. And only love could truly bind two people together; love was that magical invisible thread that couldn't be explained by our human mind, the most powerful force on earth.


	23. Chapter 23

**A/N:**

I went back to the last chapter and changed the name of Mia's new love interest to Ethan. I'm still committed to updating once a week. It will not always be possible but I will try my best.

I hope you enjoy this chapter as much as I enjoyed writing it!

* * *

Chapter twenty-two

Ana giggled again and staggered a little, as she and James moved together to the dance floor. She drank so seldom, the alcohol had gone straight to her head and she got kittenish.

"You got to get more food in you," James observed. "That way you won't get so giggly."

"Are you kidding me? I cannot possibly eat another bite!"

James thought about it for a moment before leading her back to the table. "I think you're gonna have to wait this one out," he sighed with a twinge of regret. He motioned to the waiter. "Can you please get the young lady a cup of coffee?"

"But I really want to dance!" she bemoaned but James was insistent she sit down. He pulled a chair and sat across from her.

"Hey! Who the heck are you?"

Ana and James looked up to see Christian glaring down at them.

James stood up and extended his hand. "James Buchanan."

Christian just stood there, refusing to shake his hand. "Listen, I don't know who you are or what your intentions are...but she's mine."

James took two steps back and his hands went up in surrender. "No problem, man," he looked at Ana apologetically. "Nice meeting you, Ana."

"Nice meeting you too," Ana beamed at James as he walked away.

"I don't want to see you with another man again!" He growled all of a sudden. "You understand?"

"Okay," she beamed at him stupidly. "We don't want to give the IRS the wrong impression, right?" She laughed and laughed like it was the funniest thing in the world.

"You're wasted."

"I'm not!...I'm just REALLY HAPPY!" she replied a little too loudly.

Christian's lips curved into a small smile. She really was cute when she was tipsy. He looked around him and started planning their exit. He wondered where Mia was. There she was with that fellow again. He was about to reiterate they leave when the waiter arrived with a cup of coffee in a silver tray.

"Sugar? Cream?"

She shrugged. "I'm not much of a coffee drinker..but sure sugar and cream would be okay."

"How about you, sir?" The waiter asked Christian.

Christian shook his head no. The waiter stirred in the coffee and cream and handed the cup to Ana before promptly disappearing.

For while they just sat together as Ana sipped her coffee, quietly watching the other couples dance. Ana grew strangely quiet, he imagined she was sobering up a little. He had had more to drink than she but he had a good tolerance for alcohol, he never let it get to the point of messing with his head. Besides, his encounter with _That woman_ had been a sobering experience in itself.

"We need to find Mia and leave," Christian said.

" Leave? I want to dance!"

"I don't think you're in any condition," he shook his head. "We need to get you home."

"No! Christian, please! I'm feeling better, let me show you," she pleaded. "Let's dance."

Right then, the pianist finished playing his classical pieces and took bow after bow followed by rounds of applause.

Next, a saxophone player came on stage to play Lady in Red, one of Ana's favorite songs ever. She'd never heard the song played before in instrumental and it was lovely. Sylvia introduced him as a highly talented musician, his cover of the song had gone viral.

The lights were dimmed and that in combination with the slow music was an open invitation for lovers to dance.

"My Lady in Red," Christian winked at her for she indeed was wearing red. "Okay, just one dance and then we'll go."

Ana sighed a sigh of relief that Christian was willing to indulge her. She took his outstretched hand and together they headed to the dance floor. They embraced and started to glide and gently rock to the rhythm of the music. His one hand clasping hers to the side and his other hand resting on the small of her back, old-fashioned-style.

For a moment, she closed her eyes, her cheek resting on her head and his chin rested on her forehead and then against her hair. As they continued to sway, his nose grazed her neck and he began singing the lyrics softly in her ear.

 _The lady in red is dancing with me, cheek to cheek  
There's nobody here, it's just you and me  
It's where I want to be  
But I hardly know this beauty by my side  
I'll never forget the way you look tonight_

They didn't talk, there was no need, the sensual harmonious movement of their bodies was enough. It was as if they'd been dancing like this their entire lives.

With his body tightly pressed to hers, he lifted her chin upwards and looked into her accepting uplifted face. She truly had never looked more lovely than she did tonight. His gaze dropped to her lips and lingered there, teasing her playfully, barely gracing, no tongue. They continued to sway, nose to nose, their faces mere inches away, their hips moving in a hot close rhythm as though they had a mind of their own. All she knew was that her senses were bombarded with the feel of his body pressing against hers was too much to bear. She needed him at the moment more than she needed air.

 _And when you turned to me and smiled, it took my breath away,_ _  
_ _And I have never had such a feeling,_ _  
_ _Such a feeling of complete and utter love, as I do tonight_

 _Lady in Red is dancing with me, cheek to cheek_

 _There's nobody here, it's just you and me_

"Kiss me," she whispered, intoxicated by all his teasing, raising her mouth to his for a long eager kiss that quickly turned passionate with lots of tongue and kissing fervor. Her responsiveness surprised him with all that had transpired this evening. For both of them, it was as if nothing else mattered in the face of such simple pleasure.

The saxophone player seamlessly blended the end of _Lady in Red_ with _You are not alone._

They easily transitioned into the next song. They danced slow and in perfect synchrony, never breaking eye contact except when kissing. He pressed her so tightly she could feel his erection pressing against her core. It sensual, it was magical. It was as if they were making love on the dance floor. In her movements and in the way her body naturally molded to his, he felt he felt her complete submission to him and the palpable desire that radiated through them.

She was so perfect for him to hold, the right height and perfect in every way. With his lips still on hers, his hands went to caress her back and shoulders. His lips briefly left her mouth making their way to her shoulders and she naturally pulled her neck to the side to allow him full access to her neck and shoulders. His lips were making her go wild, not realizing what she was doing, she pulled him in so much closer like he was her second skin. He was turning her on so much, she'd forgotten they were not alone, she was more than willing to let him make love to her right then a there. It was as if he had completely unlocked her heart and any reservations wide open, making her want him so much that her hand strayed to his back, pulling him closer.

Just when she thought the evening couldn't possibly turn more magical, her heart heard the magical melody of _Hasta Que te Conoci_ by Juan Gabriel slowly make its way into her consciousness. She would have never imagined a version like this in saxophone, it was sensational. Bewitched, her lips sought his with abandon.

Her kiss tasted so sweet and pure, it aroused something animal in him, something primal, a desperate need to claim her as his own. He told his mind and imagination to stop it, to cool down, but he had this all-consuming need to run his hands all over her body, making him do the things his head was telling him to do. Suddenly, the music ended, and bright lights rudely blinded them both.

And this broke the kiss. Ana and Christian looked at each other, their faces flushed. They were out of breath, gloriously out of breath. It was shocking. Their kisses had been hotter and heavier than ever before and it had all happened in public.

"My, you two are the sweetest lovebirds," Mia smirked. She was standing right there with her Romeo by her side. "Ethan, meet my brother and sister-in-law."

"Nice to meet you," Ethan shook Ana's hand first.

And then, while Christian and Ethan shook hands and exchanged a few words, Mia pulled Ana aside and whispered, "Your father and Sylvia were shaking their heads in horror watching you two dancing like that."

Ana blushed and bit her lip. All of a sudden, she wanted nothing but to make a quiet exit.

"Ethan is taking me to his place tonight."

Ana's widened in surprise. "But what about Matt?"

Mia shook her head, smiling wistfully. "Ethan is the one."

Christian moved to take Ana's hand in his. "We're leaving."

"What? NO!" Protested Mia. "Ethan and I are having fun.

"I can take her home if that's okay with you all," Ethan said and Mia beamed at him.

Christian shrugged. "Alright, just be home before the stroke of midnight," he joked and Mia rolled her eyes playfully.

Normally, Ana would have been more concerned about Mia left alone with a stranger but right now she wasn't thinking clearly. All she wanted was to be alone with Christian, it was an all-consuming need, a dangerous obsession.

"I guess it's time to say good-bye to our hosts," Christian murmured, making a beeline to where Ana's father was standing chatting with one of his male guests.

Ray furrowed his brow. "Wait. You can't leave yet. Let me get one of my men to drive you home."

Christian threw his head back and laughed. "What? "

"You're too drunk to drive," Ray pointed out, glaring at Christian.

Christian shook his head. He was far from drunk, he thought. Maybe a little tipsy, if that. He handled alcohol well, thank you very much.

"Thanks, father," Ana said shooting Christian a pleading- pointed look.

Ray let out a sigh of irritation. It annoyed how his daughter had taken to calling him 'father' as if to put a respectful distance between them. It made him feel like a stranger in her life. With a flick of his fingers, Taylor, his number one promptly appeared.

Christian saw no point in resisting. Ray assured them that their car would be dropped off at their place in the morning. But the main reason he acquiesced was to make Ana happy. She wanted this, and he wasn't about to start an argument with her over something like this.

…..

The ride in the limousine was heavenly. It had a built-in bar and a TV, just like in the movies. Ana rode next to Christian, her thighs plastered to his, barely paying attention to the movie playing volume full blast. _Pretty woman_. She'd seen the movie before but never really understood it as a romance. She could only watch for so long. More champagne. Christian drained half his glass and Ana took a couple of sips. She relished the warmth of the alcohol as it raced through her system, and she giggled as she spilled part of the drink on her dress.

Christian distracted her beyond her, his hands making sure of that. Taking her drink aside, his thumb drew little circles along the underside of her wrist. The gentle caress sent delicious little shivers down her spine. For the life of her, she didn't want him to ever stop doing that or touching her for that matter. God, she'd do ANYTHING he wanted as long as he kept touching her like that.

…

They rode up the elevator holding hands. The pinging of the doors opening filled the air filled with pregnant expectation. Christian longed to carry her inside bridal style but was afraid she would turn him down even though there was no indication that she wouldn't. Tonight she appeared so happy and carefree, he'd only hoped she wouldn't bring up the love requirement that seemed to be so important to her. Frankly, it was absolutely ridiculous asking for a declaration of love at this point in their relationship was like putting the cart before the horse.

As soon as they went inside, Christian quickly shut the door behind him and pressed her against the door and crashed his mouth into hers. She completely poured herself into that kiss, wrapping her arms around his neck and holding on, pressing into him. Ever since their long make-out session at the dance floor, she had wanted nothing but to lose herself into him again like this. She arched into him into his kiss, but it wasn't enough. Feeling the need of his skin against hers, she shoved him long enough to slide out of her coat, then tugged at his dinner jacket. While still kissing her, he quickly finished removing the garment and tie, promptly dropping them somewhere on the floor.

"Christian," she murmured hesitantly as his lips followed the trail to her neck, and found that sweet spot behind her ear.

"Don't worry, nothing is going to happen," he said breathlessly, sliding his shirt off his shoulders and tossing it aside. "I just want you to come, that's all."

Ana gazed as his beautiful torso in awe. As if in a trance, she skimmed her hands over the hard ridges of his stomach. His muscles quivered under her touch and he gasped in surprise. No other woman had ever touched him like this before. He worked his hands to the nape of her neck and slowly, reverently, he bent down and slipped the straps of her dress off her shoulders and unhooked her bra almost in one seamless movement. She gladly stepped out of the wet dress, let the bra slide off onto the floor, and hooked her arms around his neck.

His lips, once again, did their magic and went back to that spot behind her earlobe that drove her insane. Their breathing grew rapid, their hands more adventurous and hurried as they sought contact of skin on skin. His hands, insistent, skimmed over her thighs, seeking her heat. Her panties were soaked with her need. The discovery brought a new level of excitement. His fingers went to circle her clit through the fabric and she let out a long moan.

"Christian, please," she breathed, desire dragging the words from her mouth, "I love you," the neediness in her voice so raw and palpable. She wanted him to do something about this, but not sure exactly what would tame down the fire raging within her.

He gazed down at her drinking her as he slid his finger around the elastic of her panties and bent down to remove them. When she stepped out of them and he straightened to face her, his heart nearly stalled at the raw naked desire he saw in her eyes. At last, he laid his hand flat against her core and she moaned. With a well-timed growl, he effortlessly lifted her into his arms and carried her into the master bedroom and deposited her on the bed.

There was no awareness of time or the room, whether it was cold or hot, light or dark, just the feel of him and her tout overstimulated body. There was just him, just his mouth, his hands, his ability to strip away all her thoughts until her focus was on one spot, one spot only.

Watching her, he undid his buckle and dropped his pants, finally letting his erection free.

Ana was staring at him mesmerized like he was a beast on the prowl and he liked that. He liked that she was at his mercy. It all happened too fast. One minute he was there and the next, he crawling on the bed and burying his head between her legs. She gasped when she felt his breath on her clit, sniffing her sweet pheromones. Little did she know this was only the beginning. He further tantalized her by barely brushing his lips on her pussy lips. Even that brief touch had her making a keening sound. She gasped in shock, completely unprepared for the avalanche of sensations. He licked, nibbled and suckled her core, coaxing pleasure out of her with his soft expert touch, and then turning demanding and rough, gripping her by the hips and holding her in place as he feasted on her with a ruthless carnality. She writhed, utterly helpless in his grip, exploding into a climax that peaked and peaked as she fought for enough breath to scream.

All the while, he insisted that she admit that she was his. She said it, every time he demanded it. She moaned it, sobbed it, until she lay boneless on her back, a mass of exposed, quivering nerves. He straddled her, pinning her to the bed with his heavier weight. She looked a brazen beauty, her lips parted in an unspoken message, her eyes full of desire.

When at last, his tongue touched hers, all rationality flew out the window. All night, ever since he'd teased her at the table and then later at the dance floor, she'd wanted nothing but give herself to him with an urgency that defied reason and frightened the heck out of her.

 _Oh, Dios. God, what's happening to me? I don't want him to stop._

Still, she went a little rigid underneath him and he panicked when he sensed she was starting to withdraw a little. Was she about to reject his advances once again?

"I will not go all the way," he murmured in her ear. "Like the other day? I won't come inside you, it will all be for you."

"Okay," she breathed. She shouldn't worry. She couldn't possibly get pregnant if he didn't come inside her.

He captured her nipple in his mouth, to distract her and then the other. The stiffness left her on a low reluctant moan as her breasts thrived on the unexpected attention. His mouth latched on, suction, tongue, the barest tease of teeth. The sensations were overwhelming, his mouth making the crux between her legs throb with pulsating need.

"I need, I need...Please," she was whimpering. Her breath ragged, her heart racing, a caged bird in her chest. Tremors building, a mini-earthquake rising.

There was no part of her he had not pleasured when he finally positioned himself at her drenched and inviting entrance and pushed his way inside. He could almost feel the shock reverberate through her body as it absorbed his penetration, her virginal walls tightening all around him.

"How's that?"

She could barely speak. "Feels... full."

"It's only the head, sweetheart, you can take a little more. Open a little wider, relax," he breathed in her ear, and it delighted him how quickly she complied.

He framed her face with his hands as his cock pushed all the way inside, seated to the root. With infinite patience, he stretched her insides moving gently until she got used to it. And opened her mouth and her lips stretched into a big "O".

He loved watching her face experience the pain mixed with the pleasure of having her virginity taken. The feeling of joy in him had no measure.

"Wrap your legs around me," he urged her. He knew he should stop now as he promised but it was too late now. There was no stopping now, he had to come inside.

She did as she was told, her eyes locked on his, picking up the rhythm pretty quickly. Her moans turned into soft cries, and tears streamed down her face, she was in ecstasy, saying his name over and over.

Christian felt himself quickly climbing to the peak. He was going to need to slow down if he was going to make sure she got the full experience. But then, her moans were getting louder and her grip on him tightened. _Oh, God,_ she was almost there. The thought of her detonating all around him brought him to the edge. He went into hyper-drive, his thrusts turning into a series of deep long strokes fueled by the excitement in her voice. Moments later, she reached the mountain top and he followed closely behind, with Ana screaming her pleasure as he deposited his seed deep inside of her. His spasms filled her with even more pleasure and she squeezed every single drop he had to give into the depths of her womb.

She lifted her lips to his and they kissed. It was the most intimate kiss yet. Christian had never dreamed this kind of intimacy was even possible. He still wanted to hold her, even though his passion was spent. He kissed the tip of her nose and held her protectively against him. She was his, alright, she had never belonged to another in this way.

After a little while, he eased himself out of her and and stared in awe at her lovely face, propped on one elbow.

Suddenly, she sat up and hugged her legs, brow furrowed.

"Ana, what's wrong?"

"I don't want a baby," she said, at last, making no effort to keep the alarm out of her voice. _Not now, not like this!_

It suddenly dawned on him. It all made sense now. Was the fear of getting knocked up the reason she'd rejected him so many times before?


	24. Chapter 24

Chapter twenty-three

She kept her eyes averted to hide her tears. His finger beneath her chin turned her face to him. It occurred to him that she could already be pregnant for all he knew. The thought didn't particularly alarm him. He had wanted her with no plan, no agenda, only his own long-denied need.

"Look at me, _muchacha_ ," he murmured.

She immediately dragged her tearful eyes back to his. He hated seeing the mix of anxiety and her hot tears.

"I have an appointment to get the depo shot next week," tears streaming down her face.

"Why didn't you tell me?"

Ana blinked away her tears in disbelief. She didn't think such things needed to be said. What woman in her right mind would want to take a chance, especially when her future with her man was at best, uncertain? Taking care of a baby was no ball in the park. Her experience looking after Liliana had taught her that much. While caring for her had been immensely rewarding, it had also made her realize how much work and energy babies required. Perhaps the hardest part was giving up any semblance of personal time. She wasn't ready for this, she wanted to live a full life; she wanted to be in a loving relationship before children came into the picture.

"I asked Mia to take me," she murmured quietly and he shook his head questioningly.

"Mia? Don't you think this is something you should have discussed with me?"

Ana shrugged. "I didn't want to burden you, you're busy with work during the week."

Christian felt suddenly tired. One glance at the clock told him it was a little after one in the morning. Whoa. If how he was feeling right now was any indication, tomorrow he was going to regret drinking as much as he did.

"It will be okay. No matter what happens," Christian said, plopping back down on his pillow, arms cradling his head. The only thing he could do from now on was making sure he used a condom next time. "I will wear a condom next time," he said to pacify her. But really, what were the odds of her getting pregnant this one time?

Having decided the odds were against it, he closed his eyes for a moment.

"I don't know how you can say that," she said. Silence. Christian?" Ana laid her head back down on the pillow, overcome with a new wave of silent tears as she realized he'd fallen asleep. It occurred to her that perhaps there was still something she could about this still. Maybe if she got in the shower, she could use the shower-head to flush it all out of her system before his seed took root.

Climbing out of bed, she felt the ground sway beneath her feet. Oh, no, she thought, her head now pounding. She tried again, this time nearly getting knocked her off her feet. Giving up, she climbed back in bed and pulled the covers over her nakedness. This was bad, not being able to shower when she needed it the most. Darn it, she also needed to pee, but she was so dizzy she wasn't sure her legs would sustain her.

She turned on her side, facing Christian, with the covers up to her chin. He was truly sleeping like the proverbial baby. She wished she could sleep like that, but from the looks of it, this was going to be a long night.

How unfair it was that she was the only one to bear the burden of whatever happened to her body from this point forward. Watching him sleep soundly, dead to the world, it was all the more clear to her how he could just go about his life largely unaffected. She, on the other hand, if indeed his seed took root, had months ahead of her filled with anxiety. What if in a cruel twist of fate, she ended up dying in childbirth just like her mother?

It seemed like all females in her life always got the short end of the stick.

Back in Cuba, her friend Rosalia had found herself burdened with an unwanted pregnancy. The circumstances had been quite different. She had the bright idea of purposely getting pregnant the minute another woman set her sights on her boyfriend. The ploy had backfired in a big way. Her Romeo married her alright; they celebrated the occasion with a huge church wedding only to break up two months later when the other woman made a much-dreaded reappearance.

Poor Rosalia. In a desperate attempt to induce her period, she ended up visiting a herbalist. One day, Ana went to visit her and found her in pain. Ana couldn't believe it, Rosalia was almost four months along and she'd told no one what she was planning to do. Even though she was in bad shape, she begged Ana not to tell anyone.

Ana was glad she hadn't listened to her friend and made sure to get her the medical attention she needed. After a short hospital stay, Rosalia ended up being alright. Ana shuddered every time she remembered how close her friend had come to dying.

 _You might have some of those herbs in your kitchen right now._

Her dizziness trumped the urge to get out of bed to check. It was ridiculous. She needed to stop fortune-telling, it was not as if she was already pregnant one hundred percent guaranteed.

After turning out the light on her side of the bed, she tossed and turned, her earrings suddenly bothering her. She took them off and set them on her nightstand. Her hand brushed against the teddy bear Christian had given her. She brought him back to bed with her and hugged him tightly. It gave her a small measure of comfort.

She woke up four hours later. Christian was still asleep.

Her headache was gone. She carefully got out of bed, relieved her dizziness was gone, and she was at last able to use the bathroom

...

When she got back in bed, she lay down facing Christian. She studied his sleeping face for a long time. She reached to smooth back that strand of her across his forehead. He was gorgeous. She loved him so much. Just the thought that one day he tire of her was agonizing to consider. Funny how her life had changed in the last two weeks. Back in Cuba, she could barely stand him, and now she couldn't stand the thought of living the rest of her life without him.

 _But he doesn't love you._

 _He'd never said he loved me._

She blinked tears at the thought. She had told him she loved him but he had not said it back to her. It hurt so much.

Eventually, she fell asleep again a little past dawn.

When Christian woke up around 8 am and saw her sleeping next to him, he felt a pang of regret as the night's events played in his head. He stumbled to the kitchen and got himself a couple of Excedrins out of the medicine cabinet. It took him another hour to feel half-decent.

Ana was still sound asleep when he got out of the shower.

Part of him wanted to take off, as he remembered bits and pieces of his conversation with Ana right before he fell asleep. No doubt she was full of regrets, he'd had no idea she was so afraid of getting pregnant.

All dressed and ready for work, he leaned over with a gentle kiss to her forehead, waking her. She opened her eyes and stared right at him.

"Good morning, _muchacha,"_ he smiled at her and much to his relief, she smiled back a little. Maybe she didn't hate him after all. "I'm leaving for work. Mia didn't come home last night but expect her back anytime now."

Ana looked at him, alarmed. "Is she okay?"

"I'm sure she is. She's probably nursing a hangover. How are you feeling?"

Ana stretched a little. "I'm okay."

"No nausea? Headache?"

Ana gave the question some thought. "head hurts," she mumbled, holding her head.

Christian went to retrieve the Excedrin bottle and a glass of water for Ana. "Take this and stay in bed for as long as you need to."

…..

After Christian left, Ana called the clinic for a sooner appointment for her depo shot and was told there were no appointments available until her scheduled day. She insisted and the receptionist told her she was going to put her on a wait-list and they would call her if there were any cancellations.

She also took her long-awaited shower, using the shower-head to wash herself thoroughly, hoping it was not too late. From what she'd read, it seemed like conception happened faster than the speed of light, but she figured it wouldn't hurt to try.

…..

Around noon, Ana decided to go into Mia's room and return the things she borrowed. She hung the coat in the closet and placed the heels in the shoe rack. Intending to put the gold studs back in Mia's jewelry box, she opened the drawer where she'd seen Mia keep her jewelry.

Something shiny caught her attention: A key chain with the underground railroad logo on it.

Ana searched her mind. She was certain Mia had not purchased anything at the gift shop they visited last weekend. Christian had been the only one to purchase anything.

She'd been so absorbed in her thoughts that she didn't hear the front door opening until it was too late. She was trapped, there was no way she could dash out of the room in time to avoid being seen, so she made the decision to hang onto the key chain rather than putting it back where she found it.

"What are you doing here?" Mia asked arms crossed, defensive stance.

"I came to put back the clothes and earrings I borrowed," Ana replied, holding the key chain in a tight fist. She debated whether confronting Mia now or waiting until Christian came home. Somehow, she didn't think she could go through the entire day without confronting Mia.

Mia tossed her purse and key on the bed. She turned to look at Ana with suspicion. "Why didn't you just wait until I was home?"

"Mia, you stayed out all night with that guy from last night," Ana said more a statement than a question.

"You know what, I'm tired of your holier-than-thou attitude," Mia spat. "It's like you've never made a mistake in your entire life."

Ana flinched a little, her words struck a chord. Once again, she thought of her night with Christian and having unprotected sex. The thought of an unwanted pregnancy loomed over her, threatening to take her to the depths of despair. She really hadn't meant to sound judgmental, but she didn't know how to turn off the way she'd been raised. One thing was for sure, Mia was right, after last night, she was in no position to stand in judgment of Mia's sexual escapades when she herself had thrown caution out the window and had sex with a man who wasn't in love with her.

Without thinking it through, she opened her fist, and Mia's hard gaze settled on the shiny key chain.

"What are you doing with that?"

"You didn't pay for this, did you?"

Mia snatched the key chain from Ana's hand and threw her two large suitcases on the bed.

She then started pulling her clothes off the hangers and throwing them in one of the suitcases.

"What are you doing?"

"What does it look like I'm doing? I'm leaving!"

"But...where?"

"I don't think it's any of your business!" Mia replied, stuffing her clothes in the suitcase with very little care.

Ana bit her lip. She felt bad, Mia should at least wait until Christian came home before she went anywhere. Not knowing what else to do, she left Mia alone, hoping that she would reconsider her decision once she calmed down.

Mia emerged from the guest bedroom with her two large suitcases and a smaller travel bag.

"Mia, please don't leave," Ana whispered but Mia ignored her and stormed past her toward the front door.

…

After Mia left the apartment, Ana called Christian.

"Are you sure she stole it?"

"I'm positive! I didn't see her purchasing anything at the gift shop. Did you?"

"No." He paused as he give the matter further thought. "I think you're right, she didn't...I would have remembered that."

"Oh, Christian...Where do you think she went?"

"I have the feeling we won't see her for a while."

"How is it that you're not worried?"

"She's gonna be fine. She's a big girl. She has friends in town...it's not like she has nowhere to go."

"I feel bad...maybe I shouldn't..."

"Hey, _muchacha,_ don't worry. Mia is a big girl, she can take care of herself. I'm sure she will contact us when she wants us to know where she's at."

A short silence followed.

"Ana, can we talk about us?" No response. "What happened between us last night was special to me."

Ana shifted, holding the receiver tightly to her ear, recalling how she'd told him she loved him but he had not reciprocated in kind. Tears blinded her eyes. Oh, _Dios,_ she had to be strong now. In an effort to keep herself from falling apart, she quickly dismissed the thought out of her head and forced herself to focus on more practical matters.

"When are you coming home? I need to go to the grocery store and pick up some things for dinner."

Christian hated how abruptly she'd changed the subject. He took a deep breath before answering. "Unfortunately, it won't be until after seven. It won't be like this forever, I promise. Tomorrow morning first thing I'm taking you to the DMV so you can apply for a driver's license. You'll have your license in no time and won't have to wait for me to come home."

Ana sighed inwardly. She'd never sat behind the wheels of a car and the thought of driving seemed daunting.

"Ana? Are you there?"

"Yes, I'm here."

"Also, this weekend, I will help you apply to Capella University so you can start taking online classes. They will keep you busy until you get your driver's license. There's a waiting period between your learner's permit and your final license, but it should be okay," Christian said in a clear effort to sound reassuring.

Ana sighed. She didn't feel much better after hanging up. And it wasn't only the situation with Mia; there was a lot that was left unsaid between them. For one, her thoughts kept circling back to her fear of becoming pregnant. A week was a long time to wait until she could get the depo shot. She wondered how she could survive a week much less the next hour.

… **.**

Two hours later, she once again called the doctor's office again for cancellations. No such luck. With a heavy sigh, she tried keeping busy with household chores but the pesky thoughts kept intruding in her mind. In a last-ditch effort to put an end to her ruminating thoughts, Ana decided to turn on the smart TV and enjoy some Latin music on YouTube. She typed Jose Luis Rodriguez and much to her delight, the screen lit up with several of her favorite songs by the Venezuelan singer, one of her grandmother's all-time favorites performers.

 _Voy a perder la cabeza por tu amor_  
 _Porque tú eres agua_  
 _Porque yo soy fuego_

 _de tus sentimientos_

 _Yo ya no sé si he perdido la razón_  
 _Porque tú me arrastras_  
 _Porque soy un juego_  
 _De tus sentimientos_

 _I'm going to lose my mind for your love_  
 _because you are water because I am fire_  
 _and we do not understand each other_  
 _I do not know if I've lost my mind_  
 _because you drag me_

 _because I'm just a pawn_

 _of your feelings._

Ana sighed in awe of whoever had composed this song. He or she was a genius.

How fitting. Life was now neatly divided between BC (before Christian) and AC (after Christian). Before Christian, she'd never really thought love could make a person could lose their mind. But After-Last-Night, she'd been converted the moment rationality flew out the window. Last night, she'd been completely at the mercy of his feelings.

The funny thing was that she couldn't wait to be in his arms once again. She continued to sway with the music, how she loved these old-fashioned romantic ballads. Ana's heart swelled with joy when she saw Camilo Sesto's songs in the drop-down menu of YouTube recommendations. She clicked on an all-time favorite, _Perdoname (forgive me)_ She'd never seen an actual video of the singer singing and she was in heaven. She thought he was really cute and put his heart and soul into his performance. Grabbing a pillow, she danced around the room and fantasized he was actually her lover, singing this song just for her. The way he was singing, she would forgive him on the spot no matter what he'd done. She doubted any woman on earth would be able to resist his charm.

Next came another one of her favorites, _Con el Viento a tu Favor._

 _No se si cuando sufro mas_

 _si amandote o queriendote olvidar_

 _que amargo es amar sin sen amado_

 _es mi vida un desierto_

 _con el viento a tu favor_

 _es mi vida un infierno porque no tengo tu amor_

 _I don't know how I suffer the most_

 _Whether loving you or trying to forget you_

 _My life is a desert, with the wind on your side_

 _My life is hell because I don't have your love_

 _My life is a desert, with the wind on your side_

 _My life is hell because I don't have your love_

The next YouTube suggestion morphed from Camilo's 1980's shaggy hair and boyish looks to a live performance in the early 2000s where he sported a baseball cap and ponytail, making him look impossibly young, making it seem like time had bypassed him like a gentle breeze. His powerful voice was exactly how she remembered it from his old records. This time he was singing one of his most popular songs _Vivir Asi Es Morir de Amor ( To live like this is to die of love)._ While it wasn't exactly a ballad, the lyrics were romantic and melancholic, while the beat and tempo was catchy and heightened her senses, it made her happy, the type of song that made her want to move her whole body and enjoy its rhythm from beginning to end.

…

Christian found Ana in the living room watching a live performance of Camila Cabello and Shawn Mendes singing Senorita. Camila was wearing a long flowy white dress and Shawn was wearing a white tank top, showcasing the taut muscles of his arms and chest. He sat beside her to watch, thighs touching, rubbing her shoulders.

Ana's entire body welcomed his touch, and her neck rolled to the side as he found that delicious spot on her neck that sent little shivers down her spine.

 _I love it when you call me señorita_  
 _I wish I could pretend I didn't need ya_  
 _But every touch is ooh la la la_  
 _It's true, la la la_  
 _Ooh, I should be running_  
 _Ooh, you keep me coming for you_

On the screen, Camila was circling Shawn as she sang, touching his arms and shoulders. Ana was mesmerized, watching sing and dance was the most erotic scene she'd ever seen on television.

Pretty soon, Senorita ended and rolled into the next song, _Havana._ Christian rose to his feet and held his hands out to her. She gracefully took them and he pulled her into an embrace while they slow danced.

 _Havana, ooh na-na_  
 _Half of my heart is in Havana, ooh-na-na_

 _I knew him forever in a minute_  
 _And papa says he got malo in him_  
 _He got me feelin' like, oooh-oooh-ooh_

By the time the song was over, Ana had found herself in her bra and underwear as he had undressed her while they danced. The achiness down in her feminine parts returned with a vengeance, making her crave him like a drug. Then, suddenly they both were naked on the king-sized bed, sending the duvet tumbling to the floor, their bodies meeting instantly.

His mouth covered hers in a soulful kiss of passion, while his hand kneaded her mound and pussy lips with several squeezes and releases. She moaned into his mouth as he slowly began to suck on her tongue while she felt the other hand lifting her breast up and massaging the fullness.

"Christian," she gasped in his mouth when his fingertips lightly tweaked her aroused nipples. He stole her breath, her fear, her will, leaving her only with the anticipation of the pleasure promised.

"You like that?" He asked in a hushed murmur.

"Yes," she moaned restlessly, undulating her hips.

"Lay back and enjoy, sweetheart."

Feeling completely captive to his ministrations, she did as she was told and opened her legs for him. Without warning, his fingers twitched over her pussy with one burrowing deeper between the creases where she was wet and needy. His index finger played at the entrance, teasing her, making her impossibly wetter, making her feel she would lose her mind if he didn't thrust into her soon. She arched her back as his fingers moved away from her aching core went back to her clit, pinching sharply, sending a spike of pain mixed pleasure through her.

"Please, please!" She tossed her head side to side.

"What do you want, _muchacha_?

Ana struggled to speak. "Inside, I want you inside," she begged in a voice she barely recognized as her own. Never in her wildest dreams would she have imagined anything like this...like this exquisite torture.

He pushed his fingers in. With his thumb, he pressed against her clitoris. He began to move his fingers and thumb in small circles. Then, with his other hand, he pinched her clit even more sharply than before. Pain and pleasure rose and burned through her.

"Awww~" She moaned, tossing her head side to side.

"Are you going to come?"

"Yes, YES!"

"Not yet, hold it."

She shook her head no. She bit her lip, trying to keep a lid against this relentless desire taking her under.

"OH- She breathed. Her body was writhing. She didn't care about anything but the present moment. Nothing mattered but those glorious hands of his, hands that kept working her. His fingers inside her, his thumb working on her hard clit. She was lost in sensation.

He needed her NOW.

He grasped both of her wrists with one hand, drawing her arms over her head and she let him do it. Knowing that she had given herself to him a second time so completely was thrilling beyond measure. He'd forgotten the condom box in the other room and briefly considered getting it but in the next second, he knew he wouldn't. The only thing that mattered was that he wanted her again like the first time, with no barriers.

He pushed inside her so deep and so fast, she lost her breath and clutched him with her legs and arms. He stilled above her, letting her get used to his size again. As her inner walls stretched around him, he cupped one of her breasts and rubbed his thumb over her nipple in erotic circles. She tightened all around him with each of his strokes, each flicking tease. Their lips met once again and the wildness in her took over. She inhaled his manly scent and bit his chest, taking more of his cock, gasping as the fullness became overwhelming.

"You've been good, _muchacha,_ so damn beautiful. I want you to come now, for me."

Burying her head against his neck, she lightly scraped her teeth against his ear. He growled in response and his thrusting became unsteady and faster. Reaching between them, he tweaked her clit rubbing it with his thumb as his lips sought her neck. The effect of the combination of both was tenfold. So when he lightly pinched her clit release came to her without warning. She wanted to cry. Strange emotions welled up inside her as he came too with a low grunting sound.

He held her close, her body still pulsing and tingling with the aftereffects.

"You're so passionate, Ana, you're amazing!"

Must be my Latin blood, she thought but said nothing. A soft kiss on the forehead felt so romantic, she thought she must be dreaming. Except she wasn't. A nagging voice reminded her that he hadn't used any protection as he promised.

"I don't know...how this happened again," she murmured, disillusioned.

"It's the most natural thing in the world...two people being attracted to one another and wanting to be together this way," he said in an attempt to sound cool, non-chalant.

Once again, Ana noted how he had not used the word LOVE. Of course, she would agree with that statement one hundred percent as long as LOVE was part of the equation.

Christian stroked a tendril of damp hair off her forehead. He didn't like the shadow that had crossed her face and quickly tried to make amends. "I'm sorry. I should have used a condom but... I got carried away..."

 **A/N:**

Everyone, I treasure your comments, they often help me with the story. However, I will no longer be writing the response to reviews section, I don't think it's helping. If anything, it's taking away from the story because of my tendency to say and give away too much. I will, however, address anything that needs clarification and that's it, only because I disabled private messaging on here. Once the story is complete, I will delete all my comments and spoilers. Thanks to all for reading and reviewing.

 **Wishing you the best this new year: beautiful memories and all the blessings a heart can know! Love Kz4Valentina**


	25. Chapter 25

**A/N:**

CTHEWOODS: Thanks for the support. Nope, it's nothing you've said. I just finished deleting most commentaries and spoilers which I believe were contributing to decreasing interest in the story. Even though they were fun to write at the time, I believe in the long run it was the best in the long run. **I have NOT changed anything about the story, just deleted my long- winded notes.** The word count DID go down, although I think I made up for it with this REALLY LONG CHAPTER :)

 **About the lyrics:**

The next song by Camilo Sesto has been my source of inspiration for the last few chapters. Unlike the previous songs by him, the following translation is mine. I didn't like the translation I found online, so I tried making it a little better, however I still think it falls short. I chose this song because I believe this song perfectly captures the beauty of the lovemaking between A & C ;)

* * *

This is an excerpt by Camilo Sesto in a live performance in 1977:

"So that these kinds of things don't happen, it is very important that every moment you are with your beloved, you give everything you have to give. It is very important that every moment you spend together you give your love. And it is for this reason that I would like to give you my good love."

(Para que no sucedan este tipo de cosas, es importante en todo momento entregarle todo de lo que ti nazca al ser amado. Es importante en todo momento entregar tu buen amor, y por es eso que a mi me gustaria entregarle a ustedes mi buen amor.)

 **Mi Buen Amor ( My Good Love)**

De espaldas al mundo

De cara al amor

desafiando al peligro

Entre beso y beso

Una hiedra de amor

Nos abraza hasta unirnos

viviendo momentos

que no puedo explicar

bellos momentos

como el verbo amar

Deseada ternura

Deseada locura

de juegos probihidos

desatando placeres

descubriendo como eres a solas conmigo

estrechamente enlazados

y llenos de paz

Sintiendo por dentro

una luz interior

que solo tu me das

 **Mi buen amor, Mi buen amor**

 **del mundo yo me rio**

 **por hacer tu cuerpo mio**

 **vale la pena vivir**

 **Mi buen amor, mi buen amor**

 **por alguien como tu**

 **vale la pena vivir**

TRANSLATION (SOME OF THE FEELING IS SADLY LOST IN TRANSLATION, ):

With our backs against the world

face to face

Defying danger

Between kisses

A love ivy

joins us, brings us together,

making us live moments

I can't explain

Beautiful moments

that are already eternal

like the verb love

My desired tenderness

desired madness

of forbidden games

teasing me, calling me to

discover how you are

when you're alone with me

tightly intertwined

and filled with peace

feeling inside an internal light

that only you can give

 **my good love, my good love**

 **Oh, how I laugh at the world**

 **every time I make you mine**

 **because it makes life worth living**

 **my good love, my good love**

 **with someone like you**

 **life is worth living**

* * *

Chapter twenty-four

Christian didn't like how she became suddenly quiet, and then without another word, crawled out of bed and jumped in the shower. After a few minutes of quiet reflection, he went into the bathroom down the hall and showered. Boy, it sure seemed like he'd messed up again. The question was, what he could he do now to redeem himself?

By the time he came out of the shower, he had a specific plan. Clad in a towel around his waist, he first went into the guest bedroom to get some clothes and then strolled into the master, planning on getting dressed there. After last night, it was only logical that he move his stuff back here. In his mind, their lovemaking had sealed the deal; there was no reason for them to sleep apart from this point forward.

As he made his way across the hallway, he caught a whiff of something cooking. So just like Ana to be in the kitchen already fixing dinner. She was spoiling him rotten with all these home-cooked meals she loved to cook. He'd never be able to make it without her now.

"We're out of rice," Ana said apologetically, as she motioned to the table.

Christian followed her gaze. There were two hot plates on their table: black beans and stew and a green salad on the side.

"That's okay, we can live without the extra carbs," he joked.

Ana sighed. "To me, beans and rice go together..." she trailed off. _Like love and marriage_ , she finished the sentence in her head.

"This is fantastic," he said digging in. "I don't think I tell you this often enough. You're the best cook ever...although don't repeat it to my mother if you want to get on her good graces."

Ana smiled a little at that. Yes, the comment reminded her that in two more weeks and she will get to meet his parents when they came to visit for Thanksgiving. She was a bit familiar with the dishes that went with a traditional Thanksgiving meal and was looking forward to trying her hand at them. She had hoped to do most of the cooking, with Mia's help, of course. She sighed inwardly, hoping they would hear from her soon.

"Ana," he said half-way through their meal, "I hope you're not angry at me."

"I'm not," she replied, not meeting his gaze.

They finished their meal mostly in silence. Christian looked at his watch. "It's getting a little late. Are you ready to go?"

Ana raised her brows. "Go? Go where?"

"I thought you said you wanted to go to the grocery shopping."

"Hmm. Yeah."

"Okay, well, let's go. We don't want to be out too late."

….

Ana slid on a long sleeve top and her best pair of jeans. Christian came into the bedroom when she was applying her makeup. She quickly finished up and grabbed a thin cardigan from her closet.

"It's snowing, you're gonna need something warmer," he observed.

"This is all I have. The coat I wore last night was Mia's."

Christian could almost kick himself for not thinking of getting her proper winter attire. "Okay, let's get going," he said suddenly in a big hurry. On their way out the door, he grabbed a long wool coat out the coat closet and wrapped it around her, buttoned it, raised the collar. "It's a little big on you, but it will do." He then stood behind her, held her with his face against her ear, as if trying to warm her.

Almost against her will, her body melted into his, her heart beating wildly. Why was it, that even the lightest of touches could wipe her ability to think, let alone resist him? She'd become the bewildered protagonist of one of those late Victorian Harlequin novels she used to read, she'd become HIS CAPTIVE. Her mind shifted into high gear, coming up with new titles for the story of her life with Christian.

 _Las Cadenas del Destino_

 _La Amante Encadenada_

 _La Pobre Esclava Encadenada_

Yes, the titles were hopelessly dramatic but perfectly expressed how she felt. She tried coming up with an English translation, but her mind was momentarily stuck in Spanish, the language of love and romance.

She turned around, half-expecting him to sweep her into a passionate kiss, but instead found him ushering her out the door.

...

"You're so quiet tonight," he observed as he drove and she said nothing, distracted looking out the window.

"Why are we here?" She asked as he pulled into the Toyota dealer parking lot. He smiled and cut the engine.

"We're here to get you a car."

"Wh-what?"

He reached for her hand. "Ana, I don't want you to feel like you're imprisoned, I want you to have the freedom to go wherever you want. Once you get your driver's license, you won't have to wait for me to go shopping."

Ana's astonished gaze shifted to the building and to the wide field of cars. "You want to buy me a car tonight?"

"Unless you don't want me to?" He really hoped she would say yes. He really wanted to beat Raymond Steele to the punch; he wanted to be the one giving Ana her first car.

She was too stunned to immediately respond. She took a few moments to really think about this."But how will this work?"

"What do you mean?"

She took a deep breath and let it out slowly. "I don't know when I can pay you back...I don't have any money and my father's money is not my money."

He shook his head, biting back a smile. "You don't have to pay me back. You're my wife," he coolly stated and she held her breath in suspense.

 _My wife? You mean your fake wife?_

"It's just that..." she protested, trailing off.

"What is it?" He asked and she nearly forgot to breathe, very much aware that he was still holding her hand.

"You don't have to get me a car, Christian...we both know our arrangement is temporary," she mumbled, looking away.

"Hey," he gave her hand a firm squeeze. "Don't say that. Everything has changed now."

"What do you mean? She cocked her head, meeting his gaze. "In what way?"

Christian found himself caught between a rock and a hard place. His feelings for Ana were complicated. All he knew is that he didn't want THIS to end.

"We're in a relationship now," he said simply. "Look, like I said before, I don't know exactly what a relationship is supposed to look like...all I know is that I've never had THIS. I've never had what I have with you," he tenderly lifted her chin and held gaze. "I want you more than I'd ever wanted any other woman...and for some reason, I can't seem to get enough of you."

She sighed deeply and he kissed the tip of her nose and then her cheek. "You are mine now," he said against her mouth, "you should know better than to question this, _Muchacha linda,"_ he murmured giving her a short kiss that left her breathless. "There's a term _en Espanol_...what is it?" he paused. He teased her by giving her another short kiss before pulling away. " _Tu te entregaste a mi, recuerdas?"_

She sighed again and he enjoyed the sudden flush in her cheeks. Yes, she had given herself to him, heart, body, and soul. It certainly sounded more romantic in Spanish. Now that she'd surrendered herself to him, she was His Willing Captive. _Dios,_ she was such a hopeless romantic. All he had to do was whisper a few romantic nothings in her ear and she would do anything he wanted, no doubt about that.

"As much as I would love to kiss you again, we got to go inside before they close," he said holding her gaze, sending a warm rush between her legs.

Oh, _Dios,_ here she was, wanting him again less than two hours after their last event. One kiss, that was all it would take for him to have her flat on her back right here in the seat of his car, with her legs spread apart for him.

….

"So what do you think?" Christian asked while Ana sat in the driver seat of a silver 2018 Lexus Rx, sliding into the passenger seat. By the time they arrived at the car dealership, it had stopped snowing, something he was grateful for.

"It's amazing," Ana mumbled, wide-eyed, checking out the car's navigation and sound system.

The salesman went on to explain more about the car but neither one of them truly listened, they were completely focused on each other.

"The best thing about this car is that it runs smoothly with 3.95 horsepower, 2.5-liter V-6 engine and it's reliability, far surpassing the industry's safety standards and the latest technology featuring push-button start/stop, Bluetooth and USB connectivity."

Christian half-listened to the salesman monologue. "Nothing but the best for you, sweetheart," he murmured quietly.

The way he'd called her sweetheart made her starry-eyed. She smiled at him as a song she hadn't heard in a long time came through the car's speaker. The song was called _Over my Head_ by Fleetwood Mac.

 _You can take me to paradise,_ _  
_ _And then again you can be cold as ice_ _  
_ _I'm over my head,_ _  
_ _But it sure feels nice._ _  
_ _You can take me anytime you like,_ _  
_ _I'll be around if you think you might love me, baby,_ _  
_ _And hold me tight._

Ana sighed inwardly. _You can take me anytime you like._ _If you think you might love me_. _And hold me tight._ Those last three lines stayed with her; they seemed to sum up the story of her life with him.

 _Maybe if I stay with him long enough, he might actually grow to love me one of these days._

"Okay, so do you like it? Or would you rather look at other cars?"

Ana blinked, his question instantly bringing her out of her musings. "Like it? Are you kidding?" She laughed merrily. "This car is a dream."

"Okay, we'll take it," Christian said and the salesman nodded.

"What color?" The man asked Ana.

Ana looked at him for a moment, not understanding he was offering her a choice. "This one, this one is perfect."

While Christian and the salesman negotiated the price, Ana took a stroll around the sales floor. Another salesperson walked her over to the espresso machine to get something to drink. Thankfully, the salesperson kindly walked her through the menu of choices. After much deliberation, she ended up choosing a cup of hot chocolate topped with sweetened coconut shavings. Ana whiffed her drink before the first sip. Wow. This was going to be great. She still couldn't believe Christian was getting her a car. Maybe this was his way of showing her he cared about her; after all, he was making a big financial commitment on her behalf.

The lyrics of the Fleetwood Mac kept playing in her head. _I'll be around if you think you might love me, baby. And hold me tight._

 _Chances are Christian might love me one day._ Maybe that was enough for now.

Having signed the final documents, they left the car dealer, all smiles. Christian was getting a ride tomorrow to pick up the vehicle. Ana couldn't believe how easy everything had been.

"You know I've never really driven in actual streets before. Just in dirt roads and empty parking lots," she giggled. In the next moment, her smile faded a little as she thought of Jose and all the times he'd tried to teach her how to drive. It pained her to think that in all likelihood he was still incarcerated.

"We'll get you on driving classes with an actual instructor," Christian smirked at her. "You will be driving in no time."

Ana smiled back at him. "Hey, where are we going?" She said as they pulled into the parking lot at the mall, the same mall Mia had taken her to. "I thought we were grocery shopping."

"We are. But first, we're making a pit stop here," he cut the engine, and turned his body in her direction, and smiled at her. "Have you looked at the weather lately? You need a nice winter coat, mittens, hat, boots, you name it."

…

Christian parked in front of Neiman Marcus, hoping they find everything Ana needed in one store, as their time was limited. The mall was closing in an hour. Aside from the required winter attire (hats, mittens, scarves, etc), Christian insisted Ana get clothes for different occasions. Ana was especially interested in getting a cocktail dress and other outfits she could wear in case they got invited again to her father's house. She chose a black crew-neck- long-sleeved cashmere dress, two v-neck- cashmere sweaters, a belted-shawl collared coat, an open-front cardigan, a two-piece tunic, and leggings set, a rose-colored cashmere zip-front hoodie, two crew neck loungewear sets, three pairs of high heels, and a pair of ankle boots.

Once they had gathered everything they needed, Christian guided the way to the registers.

"Wait," she said, stopping.

"What is it?"

"This is going to be a lot of money," she mumbled, biting her lip, "Maybe I can put some of this stuff back and..."

"Sh-sh," he put a finger to his lips. "Don't, sweetheart, don't. You're going to need all this. These ARE NOT luxuries," he reassured her. Then, in the next moment, he marched toward the next available register and paid, making sure Ana didn't get to see the total of how much he'd spent.

"Thank you," she mumbled as he headed straight for the jewelry counter with their three large bags full of merchandise. "Wait, Christian..."

"I want to get you something special...how about a nice pair of earrings, a necklace," he said looking at the glass-covered displays. He wanted to give her a pair of everyday earrings to make up for the fancy pair Raymond Steele had gifted her at the party. "See anything you like?"

At first, Ana resisted. Locking arms, she tried pulling him away from the displays. But then, a sales lady appeared, smiling.

"May I help you?"

"I'd like a nice set of earrings and necklace for my lovely wife," Christian said, locking eyes with Ana, making her blush.

"Oh, what's the occasion?" the middle-aged woman smiled widely. "Birthday? Wedding anniversary?"

"We're newlyweds."

The way he'd said that brought a candid smile to Ana's lips. She supposed she was now his wife in every sense of the word. They'd consummated their marriage and had a perfect evening together, sweet and romantic.

"Oh, of course. You, my dear, still have that lovely newlywed glow," she said looking at Ana. "Here are some of our top-selling collections," she said producing three boxed displays. When Ana didn't show any particular inclination, she asked what was her favorite thing to wear.

"I don't know," she hesitated, "Crosses?"

The saleslady immediately produced five sets of the requested design. Ana's gaze settled on a Roberto Coin baby cross necklace and matching stud cross earrings that nearly took her breath away. Her uncertain gaze then shifted to Christian.

"We'll take this," he said to the woman.

"Excellent choice."

Ana once again looked at the price and her eyes widened like saucers. "Christian, this is too much," she weakly protested, overwhelmed.

His lips curved into a boyish smile. "Nothing is too good for you, _muchacha_ , you should know that already," he said planting a chaste kiss on her lips.

After finalizing their jewelry purchase and, Christian asked the saleslady to snip the tags so Ana could wear the jewelry out of the store. Ana beamed at him as he assisted her with fastening the necklace, pleased to see the end result in the store's mirror. After that, they strolled hand in hand toward the elevators, ready to call it a day.

Ana immediately noticed the very pregnant woman that joined them on the elevator. She couldn't help but stare as she placed her hands on her baby bump, partially turned toward the elevator doors. And her hand instinctively dropped to her abdomen. In her mind's eye, she saw herself a few months from now.

 _Maybe it wouldn't be so bad,_ she thought as she locked eyes with Christian. His hand dropped the shopping bags on the floor and went to cover hers over her abdomen. He clearly was thinking the same thing as her. Amazingly, there was no fear or aversion in his eyes which she took as a good sign.

 _Maybe he's starting to love me a little bit...even if he doesn't come right out and say it?_

She closed her eyes, and for a moment the vision of a little toddler, a copper-haired boy running toward her became shockingly clear. And when she opened her eyes again and they connected with his, his lips locked with hers in a passion-filled kiss.

The pregnant woman exited on the first floor. Someone else got on the elevator, turning to press the button for the ground floor where they'd parked.

Christian was so completely focused on Ana, he could barely wait to get her home and make love to her again, and again. Knowing that the elevator doors would open any second now, he wrapped his arm around her and pulled her body flush against his, moving to kiss her neck and whisper sweet-nothings in her ear.

Suddenly, the elevator came to a halt.

It took a moment for Christian to realize that the small figure facing them and holding a small revolver and staring at him impassively is Leila. He mentally kicked himself for leaving his gun in the car.

 _Fuck!_

Christian couldn't believe she's here gazing at him with an unnerving expression, holding a fucking gun!

"Please don't!" Ana pleaded with the assailant, prepared to surrender her purse, instantly recalling the times she'd been mugged before. Both times, she'd been held at knife-point; one time a thief had threatened to stab her if she refused him her purse and watch, and another time, her necklace got snapped off with the tip of a knife held to the nape of her neck. "I-I'll give you anything you want!"

"Leila!" He said her name between clenched teeth, kicking himself for leaving his gun in the car.

Ana's gaze rapidly shifted from Christian to the woman he has just referred to as Leila, her terrified brain struggling to compute. Does Christian know this woman?

"You," she said, pointing the gun at Ana. "What do you have that I don't?" Her voice had the singsong intonation of a child.

"I don't understand?"Ana mumbled, her voice shaking. Her breath caught in her throat, her world teetered precariously in the hands of this fucked-up woman, whoever she was. "Who-who are you?"

 _Will she shoot? Both of us? Just me? Just Christian?_

"I'm his ex!" Leila snorted.

Ana's gaze shifted to Christian. He was glaring at the brunette with an intensity he'd never seen before, his eyes wide, angry, and scared. Christian and this woman continued to stare at each other, a staring contest of some sort, he was close enough to reach for the weapon and yet he continued to stare. His expression was raw, full of an unnamed emotion. It could be pity, fear, affection...

 _or is it love? Oh, NO! PLEASE, NOT LOVE!_

"But not by choice... he doesn't want me anymore because of you!" She exclaimed, her finger dangerously close to the trigger.

Christian's instincts told him that now when Leila was distracted and her gaze fixated on Ana, was the moment to take action; he swiftly positioned himself protectively in front of Ana, his law-enforcement training immediately shifting to overdrive. It felt like an eon had passed as he processed all this, although, in reality, it was only a split second. He grabbed the barrel of the gun firmly as close to the trigger as possible, while at the same time, his other made for the back of the gun, where the hammer was. Rather than bringing the gun down, he kept it at the same level but turning it. This simple action moved the barrel way from the center of his body mass to the peripheries where it was less likely to be fatal. Intending to rip the gun from her grip, he pulled the gun vigorously as his body continued to turn. However, in the process, and with the gun turned on its side, three shots were fired in rapid succession as he wrestled Leila for the gun.

In the next second, Leila was knocked off balance, and Christian was in full possession of the weapon. At once, he hit the alarm and released the elevator while keeping the gun pointed at Leila. Then the crazed woman did something he wouldn't have predicted but when she reached for something behind her, and he immediately assumed she was reaching for yet another weapon.

It all happened so fast.

His next movements had the eerie feeling of happening in slow motion while also moving at the speed of light. Later, as he'd tried reconstructing what had happened in his head, the sequence of events had seemed fragmented. All he knew for sure was that he'd been right. Leila produced another revolver, and that he'd fired three shots aimed at her chest. Another weapon discharged and then a scream.

Next thing he knew, his knees instantly dropped in front of Ana like a heavy sack of potatoes, cradling her body into his arms. She was lying on her side, her back against the elevator wall, her eyes wide with shock.

GOD, NO!

"Someone, call 911!" Christian yelled as people started gathering around the elevator doors. He continued to rock her in his arms, tight against his chest, terrified beyond his wildest dreams. "You're gonna be alright, sweetheart," he chanted her over and over again before she lost consciousness.

….

"I don't know," Christian heard himself say in response to a question, as though he was speaking from below a deep tunnel.

It wasn't until he produced proper law-enforcement identification that the mall's security officers were satisfied with his version of the story. By then, the ambulance had arrived and Ana was being lifted into a stretcher. Christian climbed in beside her, holding her hand, talking to her, telling her everything was going to be alright.

The ride in the ambulance was the worst. Christian remembered talking, asking questions, pestering the paramedics but wasn't fully aware of what he'd said. He held his breath as the paramedics got Ana stabilized. The first time he'd asked if she was going to be okay, one of the paramedics took pity on him and told him he didn't know, he couldn't be sure. He introduced himself as Jerry. By the tenth time, the gentle African American man merely looked him in the eye and spoke the most frightening words, sending a cold shiver down his spine.

"I'm not sure if your wife is going to live or make it to the hospital."

Christian's eyes filled with tears of despair. It was a sobering moment, how everything can change in a split second.

"No, no...there must be something... what-what can I do?"

"There's always the power of prayer," Jerry said and Christian stared at him wide-eyed. There was something ethereal about the way the other man looked as the light of the moon illuminated his face.

It was hard putting all his trust and faith in God, especially since God seemed to have taken a long sabbatical, either that or he was too busy to bother. But this was a desperate situation; he had no choice but to talk to God as though they'd been in touch for years. He reminded him that Ana's life was just beginning, she was the kindest person he'd known. If anyone deserved to live, it was her. He pleaded for him to intervene, operate on her and heal her completely. He reminded him that they were just starting their lives together. He promised he would love her more than life itself and become a devoted father to any children HE chose to give them.

Two hours later

Mia spotted Christian immediately upon entering the surgery waiting room. People around him moved in various forms of distress. He seemed disconnected from it all.

"Christian!" Mia plopped down in the seat beside him, breathless. Staring into space, he barely acknowledged her presence. "How's she?

"We have to wait here," he replied not making eye contact, staring at the screen with patient updates.

Anastasia Grey: in surgery

"Oh, Christian," she bemoaned, following his gaze from the screen to his hunted-disheveled appearance, noting his bloody shirt, making the nightmare more real. "She's gonna be alright," she said unconvincingly. She really sucked at comforting people. It was hard to know what to say when the unimaginable happens.

"It's my fault. If it hadn't been for me, this would have never happened."

"How? What happened?"

"Leila...she came after us with a gun," Christian held his head between his hands, his gaze fixated at the floor. "After the party, I never imagined she would go this far, I just..."

"Wait...I'm not following you... This woman, Leila, you met her at a party? Mr. Steele's party?"

"She confronted me there, she's crazy, she wanted something, some kind of relationship with me," he turned his head to look at Mia. "I had no idea, I never saw this coming." He once again buried his head between his hands. "I shouldn't have tried to disarm her...maybe if I had tried to talk to her instead?" He held his head, overwhelmed by the many what if's that haunted him mercilessly. "Ana, she's innocent, she doesn't deserve this, I don't deserve her..." he trailed off.

He shook his head in disbelief at how this day had turned into a seemingly endless and mournful day. A perpetual lump had formed in his throat, a bitter and frightening lump that was threatening to squeeze the life out of him.

"If she dies, I won't be able to live with myself," he declared, his cryptic tone scaring the heck out of Mia.

Mia put an arm around her brother's shoulder and looked around helplessly. "That cannot happen... she's NOT going to die!"

Somehow, hearing someone else voice his deepest fear, unleashed emotions in Christian he didn't know even existed.

"Please Ana, come back!" he whispered in his head. Burying his head between his shoulders, his whole body convulsing with grief. There were so many things he'd wanted to say right now, apologize for being so selfish. He'd tried to make light of the way he'd disappointed her, and now he had to live with the knowledge that he could have treated her better but let pride get in the way; **she had given him her heart and soul and yet, through it all, part of him had remained aloof, holding back.**

He closed his eyes, she was back in his arms on the elevator, smiling softly, blissfully unaware of what the future held.

 _Oh, Ana, this can't be. It's like a cruel trick of nature...earlier you were so happy...and now...I never got to tell you all the things I wanted to say, and now it's too late._

"What? What did you say?" Mia asked. "Christian, you're mumbling things..."

Christian sighed, he'd been completely unaware that his lips were moving, but kept his head down, his body crouched down and bent over his chest in a curled up position. Unable to hold back anymore, he wept bitterly, wishing he could turn back time to their moment of tenderness. As he covered his hand over her stomach, he'd wanted to tell her he loved her but he'd held back, the words stuck in his throat. He'd never forget her dreamy expression when she looked down at their joined hands. It had stirred feelings in him he didn't know he had; at that moment he'd known beyond the shadow of a doubt that she was his soulmate, the only woman he'd ever want a future with. Somehow, that had been his moment of knowing; the moment when his soul had seemed to wing its way out of his body to connect with her heart, lacing his fingers through hers without hesitation, as if at last the universe had been restored to its natural order.

Mia stared at her brother's weeping form, her mouth agape. As far as she could remember, she'd never ever seen him cry.

"I never told her I love her," he said after gathering himself together, keeping his gaze down, straightening up a little. "I don't know why I never told her... And now it's too late."

"Don't talk like that...she will pull through and you will get another chance!"

Christian shook his head in shame, wiping the tears with his shirt sleeve. "I don't even deserve another chance, sis. Don't you see? It's the perfect punishment."

Mia struggled with the right response, at last, she said what seemed like the right thing to say. "I don't think God punishes us that way."

 _Yeah? What do you know about that?_ Christian challenged in his head. He opened his mouth to speak but then the words died in his throat when a nurse entered the room. His thoughts did a complete 360.

 _Oh, God, please, don't let her die. I'll do anything you want, I promise,_ " he earnestly prayed. _Just give me another chance. PLEASE!_

The nurse called another patient's name and the patient's family quickly gathered around her.

"Have you called Ana's father yet?"

"Wh-what? No."

"He deserves to know."

"That man," Christian shook his head bitterly, "he's the one who invited Leila to the party, he's wanted nothing but to break us apart from the start."

Mia sighed deeply. "He's still her father...tell me the number, I'll call him."

….

Forty-five minutes later

What a nightmare of a day. Long before Ray arrived at the hospital's waiting room, he'd already had warning signs but he decided to ignore them, he'd figured it was normal, considering he'd just received the worst news: his precious daughter was undergoing emergency surgery, fighting for her life because of his own indirect actions.

When Christian pulled him into the hallway by the shirt collar, he offered no resistance. He felt a heavy cloak of guilt weighing heavily over his shoulders. He'd never be able to forgive himself if something happened to Ana. Of course, he'd had no idea what Leila was capable of when he invited her to the party. Christian Grey had every right to hate him. Heck, he could barely stand himself at the moment. He should have never tried to come between him and Ana. It had all been a terrible mistake, one that would haunt him for the rest of his life.

"Christian, stop!" Mia positioned herself between the two men. "This is not the time or the place."

Most reluctantly, Christian let go of the other man's shirt and stepped back. "You! You invited that woman to the party," he hissed at him, "I hope you're happy!"

"I think you should wait in a different area of the hospital," Mia said to Ray.

"Do we know anything yet?" Ray asked Mia in a thin voice.

"No...but as soon as we know anything, I'll text you."

….

Ray turned away, putting as much physical distance from them as possible. He was battling his own inner demons. On the way over, he'd prayed over and over for his daughter's life. How he wished things were different now. How he wished he'd dared to stand up to his wife. How he wished he'd taken Anastasia away from the bounty hunter back at the airport before she got too involved with him. And now, it was too late. He walked and walked the hallways, no clear destination, anxiety gripping his heart. The unthinkable had happened, and there wasn't a darn thing he could do about it. He could only hope that against all odds, history would not end up repeating itself, and he would wind up tragically losing Ana like he'd lost her mother all those years ago, even if in the end, he very much deserved it.

Walking through a long hallway lined up with artwork, he was forced to suddenly slow down. The pain radiating in his chest was getting worse. He leaned against the nearest wall and fixated his gaze on the ceiling. Even after all these years, he still felt the pain of losing Carla twice, the first time when her parents uprooted her to Cuba without even giving him a chance to say good-bye, and then again when visited her seven years later. Lord knows how many times he tried to get her to break off her engagement to that other man. But he'd failed, and married Sylvia on the rebound as soon as he returned to the United States. But Carla would always be the love of his life, his one true love.

"Sir, are you alright?" Someone shouted down the hallway as Ray felt his knees go under him.


	26. Final Chapter

**A/N:**

Thanks to all that left a review after every chapter, and to all who at one time or another shared your ideas with me so I could steal them (LOL). I'm only half-joking here ;) Y'all made writing this entertaining and enjoyable for me.

On a side note, in case you were wondering, details about medical conditions have been left intentionally vague as I didn't want this chapter to read like an episode of Grey's Anatomy if you know what I mean.

ALL mistakes are mine.

* * *

Final Chapter

Ana woke up when one of the nurses was taking her vitals.

"Where am I?" Her voice cracked as she noticed the IV on her arm.

"You're in the hospital. Do you remember what happened?"

It suddenly came back to her. The woman with the gun. The awful sense of dread. "Christian? Where is Christian?"

"Your husband has been here day and night," she smiled. "You're going to be just fine."

"How long have I been here?" She asked having no sense of time.

"Well, you were already here when I arrived...and that was two days ago."

….

Mr. Grey? A nurse called and Christian whipped his head in her direction, anxiously. "You can come in and see her. She's been asking for you."

By the time Christian rushed to Ana's bedside, she was having a hard time keeping herself awake. She looked so vulnerable and small in her hospital bed, but thank heavens she was alive.

" _Muchacha linda_ ," he murmured softly. "You gave me quite a scare," he caressed her cheek with the back of his hand.

She opened her lips to speak but even that seemed quite the effort.

"Don't," he put a finger to her sleep. "Save your strength, sweetheart. You've

just had major surgery."

...

Later

"Mia told me about that woman, Leila.. she was at the party," Ana said after a nurse had checked her vitals and left the room.

Christian furrowed his brow. "What else did she tell you?"

Ana merely shrugged her shoulders. "Why?" she shook her head. "Why did she do it?"

He took a deep breath and let it out slowly. He really didn't want to talk about this but there was no way around it. "When we talked at the party, I told her in no uncertain terms it was over between us, I told her I was happily married now," he grimaced. "Never in a million years did I imagine she would do something like this."

Ana looked suddenly tired. More than anything, she wanted to wipe the horrific event out of her mind, but nearly every time she closed her eyes, she saw a replay of the events.

"I want to see my father. Where is he?" When she'd asked Mia about him, she'd been awfully evasive.

Christian bit down hard on his lower lip. He'd been anticipating this question but it didn't make it any easier. He would do anything to spare Ana this pain. He had delayed telling her the truth as long as possible but there was no way around it.

He took her hand and brought his lips to her soft skin. "Ana. Something happened to your father while you were in surgery," he said in a grave voice.

"What? What happened?" Ana's eyes snapped wide open.

"Your father had a heart attack."

"No! No!" Ana covered her mouth with her hands. She took a deep breath, her hands folded in prayer. "Is he okay?"

Christian shook his head no. Ana's eyes filled with tears. A heart attack? How could this be? Her father was young, he was only thirty-six, he'd just turned eighteen when she was born. How could he possibly die of a heart attack?

….

In the hospital cafeteria

"Did she take the news very hard?" Mia asked as she sat across the table from Christian with her tray.

"How the hell do you think? She's understandably devastated."

Mia cringed a little at his sharp tone. "Poor Ana. She's been through so much, I can only imagine what it must be like to be all alone in this country with no family."

"That's not entirely true. She has me...and you too," Christian gazed at her meaningfully. "Even if your last interaction with you outside the hospital was less than stellar," he pointed out in an accusing tone.

Mia lowered her gaze, feeling guilty. "About that...I'm sorry."

"You're sorry about what? The way you stormed off the apartment or your kleptomaniac tendencies?"

"Christian, I-"

"You need help, sis. Mom and dad were at their wit's end. Personally, I think they should have let you face the consequences but they'd saved you every single time."

"I know, I know," she murmured miserably.

"I'm guessing you never mentioned anything to Ana, did you?"

Mia decided to ignore that. "How did you know? Did mom tell you? I thought you were not on speaking terms."

"Well, you're wrong. Our relationship is strained...but we do communicate," he paused. He pushed his plate aside. He was not really hungry plus he needed to get back to Ana, she'd probably woken up from her nap by now. "They told me a couple of days ago. This can't go on, Mia, you need psychiatric help," he said vowing to himself he was going to get her the help she needed no matter what. It might take a while but now that he and their folks were on the same page, it would be easier to convince her.

….

Later

When Christian returned to Ana's room, he was relieved to find that she was still sleeping. He wanted to be with her every minute of her hospital stay so that she would never feel alone in her grief.

"Ana, sweetheart, I'm here," he smiled at her when she opened her eyes but she was visibly upset.

"I had a bad dream."

"Tell me about it," Christian gently prompted.

Ana turned focused the wall behind him, and for a while, it seemed as though she was not going to answer. "It was a memory... I was seven. Daddy and I were on the beach sitting on the shore," she suddenly spoke, her eyes filled with tears. "He was helping me build sandcastles. All of a sudden, he looked me in the eye and said: _"I love you, baby girl."_

 _I smiled back and said, "I love you too, big daddy!" He gave me a puzzled look._

" _Big daddy, huh?" He had patted his belly and laughed. "I'm not that big, am I?"_

" _No, daddy, you're not fat," I giggled._

Ana cried and laughed at the same time as she went on to explain. "I said that to him because to me, my dad was bigger than life, he could do no wrong. I only had six short months with him but somehow, it was long enough for him to become my whole world." She paused, too choked up to continue. She sucked in a breath that pulled her deeper into the memory. Christian scooted his chair closer and took both her hands in his.

"And then, when it was time for him to leave Cuba...we had bonded...and I begged him to take me with him. I'll never forget the look of misery on his face. He took me in his arms and held me tight, he told me there was nothing in the world he wanted more than to take me with him...but that one day, we were going to be together again and this time it was going to be forever...except it never happened. That was the last time we were truly together." She looked up at the ceiling, her gaze silently asking why. She'd spent so many years waiting to be reunited with her father, yet it never became the happy reunion she'd envisioned.

Christian shook his head sympathetically. He couldn't even begin to imagine what it must have been like for Ana to lose her father back then, only to lose her mother the following year. He moved to sit at the edge of her hospital bed and gathered her in his arms.

"The worst part is that he's gone now I never got to say good-bye, I never got to tell him I loved him," Ana cried, her lower lip trembling. The pain her chest was just too great, and she didn't know if she would ever be happy again.

Christian pulled her into a full embrace and she cried there for a long time as she buried her head in his shoulder. When at last, she pulled away to look at him, she saw that his eyes had welled with unshed tears.

"Sweetheart, I wish there was something I could do," he said, wishing with all his heart he could take away her pain. His sweet Ana had suffered so much heartbreak in her eighteen years, it was so unfair how life had been particularly hard on her. He couldn't imagine anything worse than losing both parents in such an unexpected and untimely manner. Perhaps, the worst part was the overwhelming guilt that befalls upon you; he'd gotten a taste of it when feared he'd lost Ana forever.

Ana shook her head, a new wave of tears threatening to drown her. "I don't remember the last time I told him...I was very cold and unforgiving...the last time I saw him the day of the party."

"Ana, there's no sense beating yourself up... sometimes people die and we don't get a chance to tell them we love them or how much we cared...but that doesn't mean we wouldn't have if we'd had the chance..."

He paused to place a gentle kiss on her forehead. Personally, he couldn't find fault in the way she'd acted toward her father given the way he'd treated her but right now was not the time to tell her that; he made a note to save it for a different time.

His words and the silence that followed gave her room for pause. She dried her tears with the back of her hand. Part of her was mourning the loss of the relationship she never had with her father; the type of relationship she wished for and would never have. "I wish I had another chance!"

….

Feeling suddenly too warm, Christian tugged at the collar of his shirt. This was the moment of truth, the moment he'd been waiting for. While she was in surgery, fighting for her life, he'd begged God for a second chance, and God had mercifully granted his wish. Considering what the paramedic had told him, there was no doubt in his mind that Ana's survival had been a miracle.

"I love you, Ana" Christian said in one breath. There, he'd said it, the words that had been so hard to recognize and accept but that were undeniably true. This amazing woman was his kryptonite, the only thing in the world he was powerless against. Yes, it was a bit scary, but the thing that scared him the most was losing her. "I love you," he repeated, this time a little louder. Saying the words out loud felt good like he was on top of the world. Voicing the words out loud was magic, he'd never expected them to feel so good and liberating. "You are my love, you are my life, you are much more than my talisman, you are my gift from God."

 _You are my gift from God!_

Ana stared at Christian wide-eyed. Those were the most beautiful words; never in her wildest dreams had she imagined him saying something like this. She wanted to cry and laugh at the same time. She tried to speak but her throat was like a desert that caught fire.

Christian lowered his lips to her forehead, holding the kiss for a long moment, slowly drawing back with such a look in his eyes it made her throat ache in a different way. Her mind drifted back to that day at the airport when he'd made reference to them being each other's talismans; he'd meant good, he'd wanted her to give her the confidence she needed to face the immigration officers. She'd been so scared of being caught in the lie and being sent back to Cuba and straight to jail, this time with no leniency.

"I love you too," she murmured softly, her eyes glassy with tears of happiness before he captured her lips in a soul searching kiss that warmed her to the bones.

He broke the kiss and looked at her gravely, "Don't you do that to me again, you understand?"

She stared at him with a big question mark on her face. "Do what?"

"Scare me like that again," he mumbled. His eyes winced shut, lashed appearing matted with wetness when he opened them. The emotion in his eyes made her catch her breath. He stroked the backs of his fingers against her cheek and started to say something.

The nurse chose that moment to bustle in, forcing him to straighten in a jerk and cast a scowl at the poor woman.

….

While Ana met with a grief counselor, Christian stepped out of Ana's room to call Grace and Carrick.

"Christian? How are you? How's Ana?" Carrick and Grace asked almost in unison.

"She's doing much better, in fact, doctors are thinking she could be discharged in a day or two."

"That's wonderful!" Grace said. "We have been so worried."

"Mom? Dad?" Christian said after a short silence. "I love you both." He heard them both gasp in surprise. "I also want to apologize for the way I've treated you all these years. Many times you tried reaching out to me but I kept my distance...but this whole experience with Ana has taught me one thing...life is too short to hold grudges."

"Oh, Christian..." Grace cried. "We love you so much!" She sniffed overcome with emotion.

"Son, words cannot describe how happy we feel right now," Carrick spoke, all choked up. "We want to apologize for our part...forgive us, we never meant-"

"Dad, please, don't," he paused. "Let's not rehash the past. This is not what this conversation is about. I just want you to know how much I love you, how much I've missed you both."

* * *

Three days later

"You're looking good, sweetheart," Christian said as he entered the hospital room. He'd gone home late last night after being in the hospital with Ana all day. He'd showered early in the morning and headed for the hospital right away.

The first thing he noticed when he looked into her eyes was that her eyes were no longer red and puffy; they looked a little brighter, even, he took it as a good sign.

"Yes, I'm feeling a little better. I think I will always miss my dad... maybe what I miss the most is what could have been, the close relationship I always longed to have with him," she sighed deeply. "But he's gone now...it was God's will and I must learn to accept it."

Christian was a bit puzzled about that.

"Knowing that it was God's will gives me comfort," she went on as though she'd been reading his mind. "It makes me free to accept that I'm only human and there's nothing I could have done better."

At last, Ana was given the final discharge papers. Soon, she was in her regular clothes and in a hospital discharge wheelchair saying good-bye to the kind nurses. Ana froze as she was wheeled toward the elevators.

"No, no!" She cried, her mind reliving the horrific event of a few days ago. There was no way she was getting on an elevator again.

Much to the hospital staff's dismay, Christian scooped Ana in his arms and took the stairs. He repeated the same action when they got back to their apartment, making her feel safe and cherished. They were both breathless and laughing by the time they got to the front door. They were both glad to be home and excited for what the future held.

….

Two days later

The interview

 **CHRISTIAN**

The immigration officer, a dry-mannered, middle-aged man, motioned for Christian to come into his office while Ana was to wait in the waiting room. Ana was still recovering from surgery so technically they could have re-scheduled this interview, but they'd decided it would be best to get it over with. Establishing her legal status as soon as possible was in her best interests; without a social security number, she couldn't register for college, open a bank account, or apply for a driver's license.

"I'll be right back, sweetheart," Christian pecked Ana's lips before following the officer.

"Mr. Grey. Before we start, we're here to establish your wife's eligibility to obtain legal immigration status. Let me remind you that you're under oath and perjury is a serious crime."

Christian nodded.

"I'm going to ask you a series of questions which I will later ask your wife as well. They're standard questions designed to rule out the possibility of marriage fraud," the man paused and leaned back in his office chair. "Let's start with some basic facts. Did any of your family, that means both yours and hers, attend your marriage?"

"No. We were married at the embassy in Cuba. It was an impulsive decision in the sense that it wasn't planned. The diplomats were leaving Cuba because of the sonic attack. I didn't want to leave without Ana so I asked her to marry me. For me, it had been love at first sight."

"Did she ever offer money in exchange for this marriage?"

"No, sir."

"Did you consummate the marriage?"

Christian smiled. "Yes, sir."

"Did you have a honeymoon?"

"Not exactly. We've been saving it for the summer. We're planning a trip to Europe to visit my parents."

"Do you use contraception?"

Christian thought about it for a moment. Honesty was the best way to answer such a personal question. "No. she's not on birth control...and I don't really care for condoms."

The man nodded, satisfied with the answer, he proceeded with the standard questions. "Who does the cooking in your house?"

"She does."

"What does she like to cook? What are your favorite meals?"

"Ana is an excellent cook. She loves beans, especially black beans and rice. She also makes _Tostones,_ which are fried plantains, they're absolutely delicious, especially when they're overripe, they practically melt in your mouth." Christian smiled widely. "When I was single, my diet consisted of frozen meals," he shook his head and shrugged one shoulder. "I just didn't have the time to cook..."

"Any particular kind of frozen meals?"

Christian shrugged. "Healthy choice Power Bowls."

"What kind of music does she like? What kind of music do you like?"

"She loves ballads," Christian replied with a faint smile. He sure was glad they'd covered this earlier today while they went over their answers to common questions in preparation for the interview. "Camilo Sesto is her favorite singer, a producer and music composer from Spain. He passed away back in September, leaving a fantastic legacy of striving to make the world a better place. He was a philanthropist and humanitarian who sold over 175 million albums worldwide," he paused. He could go on, but by the look on the other man's face, he'd probably said enough. His goal was to show that he cared about what his wife cared about. "Anyway, I like pop music in general, but I'm not a huge music fan," he concluded, his voice sounding confident yet not rehearsed. By now he knew his bride well enough anyway.

"I have in my notes that her father recently passed. Has she met your parents yet?"

"No she hasn't, but they'd skyped a few times. They live in Europe and are visiting us on Thanksgiving."

"What's the color of your toothbrush?"

"I have a standard Braun electric toothbrush. It's white with a white charging base."

"What color is hers?"

"She has a manual pink toothbrush, Oral B. I've been trying to convince her to switch to an electric type," he smiled. "We joke around sometimes...ours is truly the case of the Flintstones meeting the Jetsons which makes our life together all the more fascinating."

"Are you religious? Is she religious?"

Christian took a moment to gather his thoughts. "If you had asked me that question a month ago, I would have said I wasn't particularly religious; I was a Christian in name only. But after my wife's brush with death, I'm now a believer. My prayers were answered that day one hundred percent. The extent of her injuries," he trailed off shaking his head in wonder, overcome with emotion. "I'll never forget." The officer nodded in understanding. "Anyway, back to your question, my wife was brought up Catholic. When we first met she was working in a convent back in Cuba," he paused meaningfully. "The way I see it, there's not much of a difference in our religious beliefs, we're both Christians."

"Mr. Grey, do you love your wife?"

"Do I love my wife?" Christian smiled, completely relaxed. God, how he loved this question; it was the best one so far. "I love her more than anything in the world. When we first married we were each other's talismans...and now I can honestly say she's my gift from God."

 **ANA**

Ana breezed through the first few questions. She was nervous, but she kept reminding herself that she really had nothing to hide. Whereas her marriage to Christian had started as a marriage of convenience, they were in love now so she had nothing to fear. She and Christian knew each other pretty well by now so there was no chance they would inadvertently contradict one another.

"Did you consummate the marriage?"

Ana blushed at the question. "Hmm...yes." She gazed off. She could hardly wait for the doctor to give them the okay so they could pick up exactly where they left off in the lovemaking department.

"Did you have a honeymoon?"

"We didn't but we're saving it for the summer when we can go to Europe and visit Christian's parents."

"Do you use contraception?"

"No. I'm not on birth control and Christian doesn't like using condoms." Ana sighed and lowered her gaze, remembering what the doctor at the hospital had told her. In another two weeks, she could buy an early home pregnancy test. Then, depending on the results, she could start prenatal care. He did advise she start taking a multivitamin just in case. Ana felt both excited and anxious at the same time. But she felt at peace no matter the outcome; if it was meant to be then it was.

"Who does the cooking in your house?"

"I do."

"What do you cook?"

"I love cooking. I cook stews, chicken, beans, and rice. Black beans are my absolute favorite."

"What are your husband's favorite meals?"

Ana smiled shyly. "Well, before we got married he used to eat lots of frozen meals and pizza."

"What type of frozen meals?"

"I believe they're called Healthy Choice. He enjoys my meals now especially when I make _tostones_... they're fried plantains. He loves them when they're so ripe that they melt in your mouth."

"What kind of music does he like? What kind of music do you like?"

"I love ballads. Camilo Sesto is my favorite singer. Christian likes pop music but in general, he's not that much into music."

"I understand your father recently passed away, my condolences. Have you met his parents yet?"

Ana's lips puckered as she struggled to hold back the tears, the pain was still too raw. She looked away and forced herself to focus on getting through this interview. Right now was not the time to fall apart.

"Christian's parents live in Europe, we've talked live on Skype. I will meet them in person this Thanksgiving."

"What's the color of HIS toothbrush?"

"It's white. His is an electric toothbrush...The base is white too."

"What color is YOUR toothbrush?"

"It's a regular pink toothbrush, Oral B," she smiled faintly. "Christian wants me to switch to electric. I'm not ready to make the change. Sometimes we joke that our life together is like The Flintstones meets the Jetsons."

"Are you religious? Is he religious?"

"I was raised Catholic and he's a Christian. We both believe in Jesus, and in the end, that's all that matters."

"Mrs. Grey, do you love your husband?"

"I do," Ana said with a dreamy expression. "I love my husband very much. When we first married he used to tell me I was his talisman," she paused with emotion, "the other day, however, he said the most beautiful thing to me...he told me I was his gift from God."

 **A/N:**

I recently changed the story description. Music has always played a big role in my writing, this is especially true for this story. I love all the versions of _Havana,_ including the version with Camila Cabello & Daddy Yankee, as well as Camila's Spanglish solo extended version. The song is rather unconventional with trumpets playing; listening to it I started to imagine what it would be like to have been born in Cuba, and it made me curious enough to research. This story is a work of fiction, partly based on educated guesses. I'm Hispanic American, NOT Cuban. Thanks for reading and leaving a review. Since I'm not on FB, the only way I'll ever hear from you is right here. Thanks.

….


	27. author's note

**I already started working on a epilogue for this story that will answer most of your questions. It will be the length of a regular chapter.**

When I posted the last chapter, I left it open in case I changed my mind and decided to come back. The idea of leaving it open appealed to me. You as the reader can make it whatever you want. It seems like from your responses about half of you are happy with the story as it. I'm guessing that most of you would be equally divided between wanting and not wanting Ana to be pregnant.

I didn't read the reviews right away, I read them all at once. I had the feeling that once I started reading them, I would be tempted to write more. And guess what, that's exactly what happened. I now have it all worked out in my head playing like a movie :)

So I'm back to writing. I wish I was more like other writers on here that write story after story and easily move on, but for me it's not like that at all. To me, this story is more than just another story. What usually ends up happening is that I become overly attached and have trouble letting go.

 **I'm writing this to let you know that an epilogue is coming, AND also to give you a choice as to whether or not to keep reading. It's up to you. I hope you continue to read, but if you're happy with how it ended, that's cool too.**

 **I'm also taking requests. If it's important to you, then it's important to me too.**

 **XO**

 **Kay**


	28. EPILOGUE

**A/N:**

This chapter took me a lot longer than intended, but I was really encouraged by your positive responses, and I really needed to take the time to get all the details right. I wrote it in such a way so that it would answer your questions. I hope you enjoy.

* * *

 **Epilogue**

Tomorrow was the day before Thanksgiving and her in-laws were arriving early this the evening. While Ana was looking forward to the family gathering, the holiday had always been rather bittersweet. Back in Cuba, her family celebrated Turkey Day while her mother was still alive, but then after her passing, the Holiday was never acknowledged again. As the years passed, it became a distant memory in Ana's head, until now, that is.

As Ana tried to settle down to sleep, memories of her mother during her last Thanksgiving played in her head. To add another layer of complication, her father's death was still so raw and whirling around her heart. With a long sigh, she looked over at her husband resting beside her in bed. The soft breathing told her Christian had already fallen asleep. She stared at him in wonder. He loved her, she thought. Yes! And that seemed like a small miracle in itself.

Resting her head against Christian's chest, Ana closed her eyes, her lips curving into a half-smile. Even though she didn't have any confirmation yet, she could almost feel their tiny baby nestled in her womb. Placing one hand over her stomach, she wondered if she might be carrying a boy or a girl. And while she knew it was possible to find out the sex of the child before it was born, she wanted to be surprised. She couldn't wait to ask Christian what he wanted but didn't want to have that conversation until they knew for sure.

Thoughts about the past and future kept circling in her head, insisting on becoming part of the present. Coming to grips with everything that had happened just in the last couple of weeks alone had been overwhelming. Her father's funeral and the reading of his Last Will and Testament. Sylvia's spiteful words when she'd learned that Ray had left her absolutely nothing, not even the mansion where she lived she could claim as hers. The shocking revelation had sucked the air out of the room. Ray had cut Sylvia out of his will when they divorced a couple of years ago, and never reinstated her.

Indeed, even though Ray and Sylvia had reconciled, they'd never remarried so technically, Sylvia had little to no chance of winning her motion to challenge the will. During the reading, Ana felt as though she was having an out- of- body experience. She stopped breathing when she learned that her father had left her as the sole owner of Seattle Independent Publishing (SIP) the company he'd built from the ground up. Aside from SIP, his will stipulated that his assets were to be divided equally between Ana and Chloe, except Chloe's portion was locked in a trust fund that could not be accessed until the child turned eighteen.

Predictably, Sylvia had been up in arms. Ana couldn't believe the woman. She'd been well aware that Ray had a congenital heart condition, and that his doctor had recently warned him about avoiding major life stressors. Every time she thought about that woman, Ana felt her anger rising; obviously, she'd taken advantage of his weakness to rule the day. She was manipulative and destructive; she had a long history of using her daughter as a weapon to get her way. According to the lawyer, she'd deliberately denied Ray visitation with Chloe during the two years following their divorce. Ray felt the only way he could continue being part of Chloe's life was to reconcile with her mother.

It all made sense now, the way her father had let Sylvia boss him around. It broke her heart, her dad had been in an awful predicament, especially considering his health condition. If only she'd known about his heart condition, Ana thought mournfully, she would have behaved differently toward him.

A glance over at the alarm clock on his nightstand told her husband had been sleeping for two hours while she lay awake thinking. Usually, during the day, she managed to keep ruminating thoughts at bay but at night it was a different matter altogether. _Dios mio,_ she had to stop doing this to herself. She needed to stop dwelling on the injustice of it all; it would only lead to compounding bitterness.

"Count your blessings, mija," she heard her grandmother's voice as clear as bell and smiled at the gentle nudge in the right direction. A positive attitude had allowed Mami to survive the deaths of her husband, daughter, and her newborn grandbaby. Growing up, the matriarch been Ana's primary role model, her moral compass. She'd remained in that role throughout her adolescent years, even while most of her friends had looked up to rock stars and other celebrities.

Beside her, Christian stirred a little, and she smiled sweetly as she reached to smooth back that stubborn lock of hair of his. Christian's lips curved in a smile at her tender touch, a sweet reminder to focus on everything she'd gained. Every day he showed her how much he treasured her, he was always there lending a listening ear. Yes, she needed to bring her focus back to hope for the future, her future with Christian.

...

The next morning

While Christian showered, Ana found herself poking her head in the guest room closest to the master, the one Christian had used before. Her eyes surveyed it as though she was looking at it for the first time. Leaning against the doorway, she looked around. It was a nice-sized room, with a smaller closet than the master's, but there was still plenty of room for baby furniture. She could almost visualize the crib situated along one wall. She smiled thinking that the wall which was painted bright yellow would suit either gender just fine.

Her thoughts shifted to baby Liliana. Oh, how she missed her sweet baby scent. Although the idea of becoming a mother still made her nervous, it no longer utterly terrified her. She shook her head slightly, it all seemed like a lifetime ago now. Secure in the knowledge that her marriage to Christian was real, made a world of difference. Her baby would be loved and wanted by both of his parents. He or she would never have to go through what she went through born to parents completely clueless and unprepared. Even though no one had directly said the words, the truth was, her birth had ruined her mother's life.

….

Just as she started making coffee, Christian stepped around the corner and put his arms around her waist.

She turned around, reached up, and threaded her fingers in his hair. "Good morning."

"Hey, beautiful," he murmured pulling her close. She truly looked particularly radiant this morning. "That coffee smells so good," he clicked his tongue, cocking his head just so. "It looks like you broke the rules this morning , didn't you?"

She hummed softly in her throat. "Hmm?"

"Remember, the kitchen is my domain now."

"Right, right, "Ana giggled merrily. Ever since she'd returned home from the hospital, Christian has been cooking all their meals and/or insisted on getting take out, with the excuse that she was still recovering. This morning was the first time she'd managed to beat him into the kitchen early enough to fix breakfast before he did. For the first time in her life, she was being pampered, and frankly, she was finding that she could really get used to this.

"What will your mother think of this arrangement of ours?" Now it was her turn to click her tongue. "I tell you what she's going to think, she's going to think I'm a bad wife."

Christian was a bit amused by her tone, his lips curving into the tiniest of smiles.

"My mother is not THAT traditional, you know. She raised me to be independent, he studied her for a moment. "I know you're nervous, it's only natural. Honestly, you got absolutely nothing to worry about...she's going to love you, sweetheart, I promise you," he murmured, pecking her lips, enjoying the softness of her body. How he wished they had more time alone together before the madness of Thanksgiving descended upon them.

"I hope she will," she replied wistfully.

"I know she will," he smiled confidently. "My father will too you'll see..."

….

Later that morning, the went up to the attic to bring down the Holiday decorations.

The attic had tile floors and several low to the ground white cupboards. The slanted walls had three square windows which brought natural light into the room.

Three scrapbooks lined up the top shelf: one of them was filled with newspaper clippings, another one with family photographs and special events, and the last one was simply titled: Thanksgiving.

 **"** What are these?" Ana asked. The Thanksgiving scrapbook contained a stash of greeting cards from Grace & Carrick, some were addressed to Christian and some to Mia.

Christian went through the stash addressed to him, one for every year of his life until he turned 18. He decided to read out loud the handwritten message inside one of the cards, the one labeled Our First Thanksgiving:

 _I got you when you were four years old._

 _You are precious to me in every way_

 _You are the one I chose_

 _I love you more each day._

 _Love mom_

He then skipped ahead to read a touching message from Carrick:

 _Dear son:_

 _Today is your eighteenth birthday. This Thanksgiving I'm willing to extend you an olive branch. I know we've had our differences, but can we please put the past behind us?_

 _You and your sister have blessed my life in more ways than I can count, you have made our lives complete._

 _Did you know that in the Roman ancient culture, people often discarded their biological children? However, when a child was adopted into a family, he or she became an heir and their parent is forever committed to you._

 _The day that you came into our lives and we adopted you, your mother and I made the same type of commitment. Our commitment is for life, no matter what, we will always be here for you, Christian. We love you,_

 _Your dad_

Christian blinked as it all came to him. That Thanksgiving he made other last-minute plans. His folks had been waiting for him to come home, but he'd never showed, and so he'd never read the card until now.

 **"** Oh, Christian...Those are beautifu **l** messages," Ana murmured, eyes welled with unshed tears. As she reached in the cupboard for another scrapbook, she reached a box full of knickknacks. **"** What's this?" She said pulling out of the box a homemade craft **,** a pine cone turkey with orange felt feathers, a felt brown face and a bright orange beak.

Christian held it in his hand, his lips curving into a small smile. "I was in first grade when I made this at school, he paused, the memories rushing in. "His name is Arthur," he grinned. That Thanksgiving, he'd felt proud to have his handcrafted turkey as the main centerpiece at their dinner table. He shook his head in amusement. " Arthur decorated our table for many years," he went on, examining its shaky stick legs, "until it got banished into retirement. I must have been fourteen or fifteen then," his smile suddenly faded as he recalled how much he'd wanted to be all grown-up. Elena had been on their guest list that evening and he'd wanted to impress her, blissfully unaware of the rift she would later create in their close-knit family.

He felt a pang of regret thinking of all the years they'd lost estranged from one another.

"May I?" Ana mumbled and he deposited Arthur into her awaiting hand. "But why didn't you want it anymore?"

"We had friends over one Thanksgiving," he shrugged. "I guess I was embarrassed by the silly bird."

"I think it's adorable," Ana smiled. "As a matter of fact, I think it's time to bring him out of retirement."

"Ana- I don't think-" He said reaching for the bird ornament.

"Well, I insist!" She replied, holding the pine cone turkey close to her chest and away from Christian.

"Ana, " his brows arched in surprise.

"Yeah. So what are you gonna do about it, Mr. Grey?" She teased and he grinned back in response.

He scooted closer and she slid away from him.

"Oh, c'mon, Ana," he rolled his eyes. "Just give me the thing. It's pathetic, obviously, it's seen better days."

"Christian! How can you say such a thing? Poor Arthur!" She said earnestly and he let out a chuckle.

"Okay, fine, if it means so much to you."

"Yeah," Ana mumbled, bringing the bird closer for inspection. "Look at him. He's part of our family tradition. I can't think of a better way for us to start our lives together. One day, maybe Arthur will have a family of his own too."

Christian cocked his head. "Really?"

"Our kids. I can picture them one day wanting to make their own pine cone turkeys and keep Arthur company. Don't you?"

Smiling, Christian pulled Ana into his arms. "I can...I can picture it as though it was happening right now," he said kissing her lips. "Speaking of kids. Tell me again why we're waiting until tomorrow to take the test? I say, let's do it now."

Ana sighed deeply. While part of her wanted to take the test pronto, there was this other part that was nervous about it and wanted to delay it as much as possible. He pulled away in time to see the hesitation in her eyes.

"Ana, I'm with you, no matter what," he began in a reassuring tone. This was not the first time they were discussing this but he wanted to reassure her in case she still had any doubts. "I love you...and I will love any child of ours with all my heart...whether it's tomorrow or a year or two from now. It doesn't matter to me," he paused, his eyes filled with a tenderness that took her breath away, "I think it will be fun and very rewarding to watch this child grow in our love."

Ana's eyes welled with tears of happiness. She threw her arms around her husband's neck and clung to him as she kissed his lips. In Christian's arms, she felt safe and cherished. It was unlike anything she'd ever experienced. Growing up, she lived the life of the Little Orphan Annie, except that unlike the show, the happy reunion with daddy didn't materialize before the closing credits rolled in.

* * *

…

Grace and Carrick arrived from the airport later that evening. They both enveloped Ana in a warm hug beamed with joy, glad to finally meet her in person. They had Chinese take- out for dinner and the five of them ( including Mia) had a quiet evening together until it was time to call it a night. The older couple retired in the guest room that Mia had occupied before she moved out.

The following morning they had a light breakfast and got the turkey in the oven. Ana found herself enjoying the company of her in-laws; her mind occasionally fluctuating between her late period and the pregnancy test sitting in the bathroom cabinet; not necessarily in that order. In the end, they'd decided it would be best to wait the required amount of days recommended and increase the chances of accuracy in the results.

Later, even while she and Grace and Mia fluttered in the kitchen, she pondered some more on what their reaction would be if it turned out that the test was positive as she suspected. She imagined everyone would be more than thrilled. Well, maybe at first, both future grandparents would be a little shocked that it had happened so soon.

"It looks like one of us is going to need to make a last-minute trip to the store," "We don't have enough cinnamon and orange juice for the cranberry sauce," Grace announced.

Mia immediately volunteered for the grocery store run. She was out the door faster than the speed of light.

Grace wondered if she liked cranberry sauce and Ana nodded absentmindedly.

Cranberry sauce. Carla had loved having her turkey topped with cranberry sauce. She'd wished she'd had the recipe. Back in Cuba, Carla had bitterly complained that she couldn't find at the grocery all the ingredients the cranberry sauce called for. Thanksgiving would not be Thanksgiving without cranberry sauce, she'd mumbled between her teeth. That was one of her clearest memories of her mother.

All of a sudden, Ana felt a little woozy and unstable on her feet; instinctively, she held on to the countertop for support.

"Ana? Are you okay?" Grace asked worriedly, ushering her to the nearest seat.

"I'm okay. I was... just a little dizzy I guess."

Grace shook her head. "Ana, you're so pale," she added, calling out to Christian who was in the living room with Carrick.

 **...**

In the living room, Christian and Carrick had settled in to watch the Turkey Day games. The TV was on during the Macy's Day Parade but neither one of them had watched. They preferred to engage in conversation, periodically checking for notifications from their cell phones. It was nice being able to relax some before the first football game which was scheduled to start around noon.

They both hurried into the kitchen when Grace called. Christian immediately rushed to his wife's side and ushered her back to rest on the couch beside him. As they made their way back to the living room, Carrick eased into the recliner chair. Snuggling up to her husband, Ana tried to ease his concern telling him she was feeling better.

Thirty minutes later, Ana was dozing off on her husband's shoulder when they heard the loud buzz of a cell phone.

Christian reached over to check the phones sitting on top of the coffee table, Ana straightened up and forced her eyes open.

"Ana, it's your phone, it's a text message," Christian said. "How are you feeling?"

"Much better," Ana sighed before checking the message. It was from Chloe wishing her a happy Thanksgiving. She hadn't really spoken to her since her father's funeral when they fell into each other's embrace, except through text messaging. The poor thing had been beside herself. Having also lost a parent at a tender age, Ana sympathized with her at the deepest level.

"It's Chloe," she said to Christian before typing a response. Communicating through text messaging still felt foreign to her, but it was certainly the girl's preferred method of communication. And she respected that, texting certainly offered Chloe a way to keep her emotions in check. She supposed in the long run, maintaining some connection with her half-sister was better than nothing.

While Christian and Carrick continued to watch the game, she exchanged a few light-hearted texts with Chloe. The ten-year-old wanted Ana to log into the Frozen Event in the fashion game Nikki. In the past few days, Chloe had been reminding her that she needed to log into the game and do her Daily Quest. At first, Ana had inwardly resisted indulging into such a frivolous- time- waster game, but then she slowly started developing a liking for it. Although she wasn't crazy about some aspects of the game, like the pointless contests, she did like going into the free dressing room and getting her character dressed up. Soon, she found herself wanting to collect new outfits. She did her 'dailies' and was constantly told her she had earned 'most treasured' things just by mindlessly tapping her screen. The most frustrating thing was that she didn't get the dress for Anna Chloe was hoping she'd get. Nope. Unbelievingly, she spent all her diamonds and all she got were a pair of gloves, snow. a pair of brown boots, and a bunch of duplicates.

 _Don't lose heart,_ Chloe texted back. _We'll try again tomorrow!_

 _Okay, talk to you tomorrow._

Ana sighed and Christian sought her gaze. "How are you feeling, sweetheart?"

"A lot better," she said, pleasantly surprised. "Not dizzy at all." She even stood up and walked around for a few minutes to make her point. Christian followed her every move, his attention half-focused on the game.

Moments later, Ana poked her head in the kitchen. The turkey was progressing nicely, Grace informed her.

"Glad you're feeling better, Ana," she said giving her a knowing look. Just then, Christian strolled into the kitchen and wrapped his arms around Ana. "You're glowing, my dear...If I didn't know any better, I would say Mr. Stork will be paying us a visit in another nine months," She smiled widely.

Both Ana and Christian stared at her wide-eyed.

"Mom," Christian playfully scolded, and Ana blushed profusely. "We don't know yet, so, please. Don't say anything, okay? When there's something to announce, you will be the first to know, trust me."

"Ah," she groaned back, smiling. "Okay, dear, whatever you say," she went on, reaching for Ana's hands. "Ana, I just want you to know that Carrick would be absolutely thrilled to welcome our first grandchild whenever the good Lord decides, no pressure here," giving her hands a reassuring squeeze.

Ana smiled candidly, "Thank you, Mrs. Grey, for making me feel like part of the family."

"Ana," Grace playfully scolded, "please... call me mom, I would like you to think of me as your second mom."

Ana nodded. She was touched by Grace's request, although in all honesty, she didn't know whether she would be able to get used to that. The idea was a little foreign to her; she didn't know anyone who called their mother-in-law 'mom'.

"That reminds me," Ana said, "I need to call my grandma," she said even though she had mixed feelings about calling. Thanksgiving was not a Cuban holiday. Besides, mami had stopped celebrating Thanksgiving altogether after Carla's death; still, Ana knew she would love to hear from her today.

"Oh, yes, send her our best," Grace said. "Sure wish we could meet her someday."

Christian had saved Glady's number in Ana's contact list and put it on speed dial, which certainly expedited things. She couldn't deny how technology made life a lot easier. As she waited for her grandmother to answer, her mind flashed back to those days when she and mami went to their neighbor's house to make phone calls and replied to Ray's messages in code words.

"Ana, _mija, como estas? Happy Thanksgiving!_ "

The minute Ana heard the voice of the woman that raised her, a lump formed in her throat. "Happy Thanksgiving, mami" she smiled, her gaze alternating between Christian and Grace. " _Christian y su familia te mandan besos y abrazos_ (Christian and the entire family sends their love)."

A little while later, while Ana and Grace fluttered around in the kitchen, Mia returned from the store. By then, most of the other side dishes were ready. Both Ana and Grace suspected Mia was happy there was little for her to do at this point.

"Mia, dear, would you mind warming the dinner rolls in the oven? They only need five to ten minutes at the most," Grace said in a cheerful tone. This gathering was the answer to her prayers. After so many years of separation, this was the first time her family spent the Holiday together in unity. Plus she had a new daughter-in-law whom she already adored.

...

Blessings

"I'm so glad you two brought Arthur out of retirement," Grace smiled as they gathered around the dinner table motioning toward the centerpiece. The pine cone turkey stood proudly in the middle of a long wooden plank with two ceramic pumpkins on either side and two scented candles at the end of the piece.

The last piece of the meal to be brought to the table was the turkey. Traditionally, Carrick was in charge of the turkey itself, and he would do the cutting.

Before the meal began, everyone grasped their hands and bowed their heads and said the Lord's prayer. Then, the plan was for each person to start saying what they were grateful for this year.

Right then, the beeping of cell phone notifications disrupted this brief moment of silence. It was definitely the wrong moment to check, yet nervous and conflicted glances went around the table.

Carrick cleared his throat and started the ball rolling with a short prayer expressing his gratitude for every person in the room. He then turned to attention to his wife. "Thank you, Lord, for providing me with such an incredible partner, best friend, and wife. Next to your grace, her love is the greatest gift in my life."

Grace beamed at her husband and then turned to make eye contact with everyone. "Bear with me," she said with a wink and a smile, "for it is my intention to thank everyone individually," she glanced over at her husband. "Thank you, Carrick, for sticking with me through good times and bad, and being the best husband a woman could have. To my daughter Mia, I love you, I'm so proud of you for giving counseling a try," she stopped for a second her gaze switching from Mia to Ana and Christian. "Christian, I love you. It is with great joy that your father and I sit here today. Your phone call from the hospital meant so much to us. We are beyond thrilled that you've opened the doors for us to come back into your life. And now as you sit beside your beautiful bride, we are forever thankful that we're here to watch you grow in your love for one another," she paused to give them both a tiny wink. "It is my prayer that you will soon be blessed with a little one or two."

Ana's cheeks flushed as her gaze shifted between Christian and Grace. In response, Christian's gaze settled on his bride. In that moment, more than anything, he wished to fulfill his mother's wish and give her the grandchild she so desired.

Ana's blush intensified as she became the center of her mother-in-law's speech

, especially as the older woman struggled for a moment to contain the excitement in her voice.

"Ana, you're such a delightful young lady. I'm so grateful my son chose you as his bride. It is my hope that you feel unconditionally loved by our family today and for many years to come."

Next, it was Christian's turn. Mia stood up to briefly to check her phone. Wanting to avoid any ugly confrontations, Grace bit her tongue and turned a blind eye.

"Lord, thank you for uniting us in marriage this year," Christian began, his gaze fixed on his lovely bride, "make us one in every way, make our marriage a place of love and intimacy. Whenever one of us stumbles in sorrow, may we always offer love and reassurance and a helping hand. No matter what we achieve in our lives, we have nothing without love. I pray that we are filled with the fruit of love today and every day forevermore. Amen."

He then turned to his folks. "Mom, dad. I found these the other day in the attic." He briefly showed them two of their greeting cards and then read out loud two messages.

Hearing their son read back their own words from long ago, Carrick and Grace were both deeply touched. Halfway through his speech, Grace grabbed a tissue and dabbed her eyes.

"I wanted to say, thank you for your love and devotion. From the bottom of my heart, you're the best parents any son could ever have. Reading those cards you wrote, touched me deeply. I now I fully realize what you have given me; I was blind but now I can see," he smiled ruefully, his gaze shifting to his sister. "Mia, thanks for being here with us tonight, I love you."

Mia smiled back in response, her gaze shifting to Ana as it was her turn to speak.

"Thank you, everyone, for welcoming me into your family. Your support means so much to me," Ana said with tears in her eyes. She really wished she could say more but she was too choked up. Even though she didn't know them well, she'd seen enough to form a solid opinion; the Greys were truly wonderful people, and she felt blessed to have been openly adopted into their family with no reservations. She then turned to Christian. "Thank you, my love. I'm happy beyond words to have you in my life."

"I guess I can't top anyone's prayers," Mia joked. At this point, there was hardly a dry eye in the room; it was certainly time for some lightheartedness. "Y'all did such a fantastic job, there is hardly anything for me to say except...thanks, everyone, for your love and support this year," she concluded lifting her wine glass for a toast. "To love, health, wealth, and happiness!"

Everyone echoed the sentiment clinking glasses.

….

Their thanksgiving feast began with Carrick dispensing the turkey one person at a time. Carrick was a maestro with the knife and the turkey was his symphony, he carved the fowl with precision and delicacy. It was clear he took great pride in being the official holiday turkey slicer.

When Christian was in front of a huge meal like this one, he had a fool-proof strategy. He started with the turkey and his mom's mouth-watering gravy and the equally good stuffing. Lastly, he moved on to the side dishes. He didn't care much for cranberry sauce, but all the women in his life loved it so he expected the same from Ana. Indeed, as he turned to look at her plate, he'd discovered that she too had poured a generous serving of cranberry sauce all over the meat.

"This is absolutely delicious," she said her gaze shifting from Christian to Grace who beamed at the compliment. "The cranberry sauce and the turkey, everything is heavenly," she added graciously, feeling a bit guilty that she hadn't participated much in the meal preparation.

The conversation was lively, with Grace and Carrick retelling tales of past holidays.

"I remember being four or five years old and sitting on my hands to keep from sneaking a bite before the blessing," he grinned. "Back then it seemed like an eternity listening to everyone's prayers. That year, 1969, was the year of the moon landing. I remember, like it was yesterday, the look of wonder on everyone's faces, that's all talked about. Life was much simple back then, time seemed to move much slower," he said with a pensive expression.

"That's because everything was in black and white," Mia chimed in.

"The moon landing was such an exciting event," Carrick went on, " my siblings and I held our breaths and didn't squabble in front of the TV the entire time," he paused, "It was like that in the entire country. I don't think any other event in history has ever captured people's attention like that again."

"I wish I could remember, but I was only a baby," Grace murmured. "Although hearing Carrick talk about the moon landing always makes me nostalgic."

"Is it true that like moved at a slower pace?" Christian questioned, more a statement than a question, his gaze shifting to Ana. He thought of Cuba and how it was true that time there seemed to go much slower without gadgets and distractions. Many times, he found himself noticing the cloud formations or pausing in awe of the sunset.

After dinner, the family adjourned to the living room to watch the second half of the second game. As everyone settled in, Grace tactfully encouraged everyone to turn their cell phones off so they could have uninterrupted family time. She set her phone down on the coffee table hoping everyone would follow her example.

"I'm setting my phone on airplane mode, it won't make a beep," Christian was quick to say, refusing to part with his phone.

"Yeah, that's a good idea," Carrick and Mia nodded in agreement just as Ana turned hers off and set it on the coffee table.

Dessert came in the form of a generous helping of pumpkin pie and a scoop of old fashioned vanilla ice cream.

Ana made a mental note to include a flan or other Cuban desert next year for Thanksgiving. Next year, she pondered, she wouldn't expect to be so tired...unless by then, she was caring for a newborn which of course, was a strong possibility. She smiled, imagining what it would be like sitting at their Thanksgiving table with a baby in her arms. She looked into a sea of smiling faces just like Rose, at the end of the Titanic, her gaze bright with expectation as she met Jack at the top of the grand staircase.

Ana's gaze shifted to every person in the room. She was grateful to have married into such a wonderful family. She'd been pleasantly surprised to find that Grace and Carrick were a lot nicer in person.

…

Later

After the football game was over, the group spent time together playing board games. Christian was a little surprised to learn that most of the board games like Master Mind, Trivia Pursuit and Life and were unfamiliar to Ana. Most families in Cuba played more traditional games like cards, chess, checkers or dominoes.

Ana had a great time participating in the games, she was an eager learner and fairly open-minded. Throughout the evening, Christian caught himself staring at her in awe of her grace and beauty whenever she smiled and giggled. He almost turned away in embarrassment, but not before he caught the adoration in her eyes, filling him with warmth, making him feel as though he'd suddenly grown ten feet tall.

During game time, everyone checked their phones at one time or another. Even Ana found herself checking after something someone said reminded her of Chloe. She wanted to see if her sister had messaged her again; she didn't want the child to feel lonely on a day like today. Sure enough, Chloe had messaged her. Ana messaged her back, telling her she would be going to bed soon. She put her phone down with a long sigh. In a way, text messaging took a lot longer than having a phone conversation; it had taken an hour and a half and forty-three texts to convey the same amount of information that could be easily exchanged in a short two or three-minute conversation.

Soon, Christian's folks announced they were turning in for the night. Mia left shortly after, saying she was going home. She had moved in with Ethan last week. He was now in California visiting with his family, and Mia was flying there tomorrow and planning on staying there for the weekend.

"It's time," Christian said, closing the door to the master bedroom behind him.

Ana looked into his eyes and sighed. She was just as nervous as he was as she retrieved the pregnancy test and took it out of its package.

Three minutes passed, the longest three minutes either one of them could remember.

Slowly, they watched as a pink plus sign appeared on the window.

"I can't believe it. This means...?" she trailed off, overwhelmed. The thought of a baby growing inside of her was mind-boggling; it was the miracle of life happening to her. The fact that it happened every day to millions of people all over the world didn't make it less astounding or awe-inspiring.

"Yep, it's positive, you're pregnant," Christian confirmed with a grin, pulling her close.

They fell into each other's arms and hugged for a long time.

After a few moments, she pulled back and looked up at him nervously, what- do- we- do- now written all over her face.

"This is the best news," he said and she wrapped her arms around him and relaxed. In his mind's eye, Christian already saw himself breaking the news to his family, their expressions of joy. In the next moment, however, he studied her with uncertainty, recalling her fear of getting pregnant. Even though she'd seemed quite open to the idea, she had yet to openly vocalize her feelings. "Ana," he murmured looking intently into her eyes, "how do you feel about this? Are you happy?"

Ana's eyes filled with unshed tears. "I'm scared," she confessed. She supposed this was a very normal reaction; after all, this was a life-changing event of great magnitude. "But I'm happy too... I know it's weird."

"It's not weird, I'm scared too. Terrified out of my mind is more like it," he chuckled. But I'm also immensely happy," he leaned into her, his forehead touching hers. "This baby will be the luckiest baby," he added with his hand resting on her flat stomach. It was Ana's undoing when he suddenly started speaking to their unborn child. "Hey, little one, you're so lucky. Your mother is perfect. She's smart, honest, and the kindest person I know. I'm not nearly as perfect, but I promise to love you and keep you safe. I can't wait to meet you."

Ana's face was covered with tears as she listened to him speak. "That was so beautiful, Christian," she sighed, relishing the warmth of his body and the safety of his arms. "I love you so much."

"I love you more than the world," he murmured. "Thank you for your love, for this, for being you."

 **A/N:**

I've never written a sequel, I've always been good about talking myself out of writing one for one reason or another. However, I'm seriously considering writing one for this story. I already have a theme and a brand new title for it, although I haven't decided how I'm going to write it. I might just write a short collection of one shots of their life together, I don't know yet.

Are you social-media savvy? **I can think of many interesting/amusing situations ahead but my own experience with social media is quite limited. If interested in co-writing the new story, apply here. I will reply in a private message.**

 **Please continue to follow. When I'm ready, I will update this once again with a link to the sequel.**


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